Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Probably, I’m awesome. But still.” I look away. “I’ve never had a job that I really care about before.”
“You were my legal assistant.”
“No offense,” I say, grinning at him. “But this one’s a lot better.”
“I saw something special in you when I hired you. They people at Appalachian Peaks see the same thing. You’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, Gareth.” I smile at him, calming a bit, wrapping myself in his compliments like armor. “Well, shit, I need to run. You just barely caught me in time.” I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder. “See you later?”
“See you now,” he says, grabbing his car keys from the table. “I’ll drive you.”
“Gareth—”
“It’s your first day and it’s the least I can do. Come on, let’s get moving before you’re late.”
I want to argue, but he’s already sweeping out the door, beckoning me after him. And hell, it would be a lot easier than walking or catching a cab.
I glance down at my feet, at the shoes with their black toes.
He didn’t need to do this. There I was, feeling sorry for myself, then he sweeps into the room and makes me feel special.
What is with this man? Why does he drive me crazy?
But I steel myself, refuse to read too deeply into all this, and let him drive me to work.
Chapter 47
Fiona
I’m exhausted when I get back to the apartment.
I was right, the first day wasn’t too hard. A girl named Easter (“Mom was a hippie, Dad was a Catholic, they compromised.”) showed me around, introduced me to the team, and started with my training once I filled out a ton of paperwork for HR. She’s small and extremely sweet, but talked really fast, and I found myself struggling to keep up as she threw a ton of information at me all at once.
Now I’m feeling like I ran a marathon. I toss my bag down near the door, kick my beautiful shoes off near the entryway, ignore the fact that they gave me blisters, and hurry into the main room.
It smells incredible. “What is that?” I ask as Gareth welcomes me from the kitchen.
“Dinner,” he says, holding up a bottle. “And champagne.” He pops off the cork.
I laugh as he pours two glasses. “What’s all this for?”
“A celebration. To your first day.”
“Oh, yeah? You cooked and cracked open a bottle of bubbly for me?”
“I didn’t cook, I bought some good Italian and I’m reheating it. And the bubbly was already in the refrigerator, so why not.”
“Ah, that makes sense. Don’t want you to go to any trouble on my account.”
He smirks, shaking his head. “I nearly got into a fight with a shopkeeper girl this morning, I’m pretty sure I already got into enough trouble.”
“Here’s to trouble then.” We toast each other and drink.
“Come on, take a seat.” He guides me to the table. “Tell me everything.”
I sit down and he faces me on the same side. I start talking about how it went, from the first moment I walked into the gorgeous, spacious, modern offices, to meeting everyone, to getting acclimated with Easter. I end up putting my feet in his lap, and he absently rubs them as if he knew they were aching.
“Everyone was so nice. I mean, seriously, couldn’t have been more welcoming, but it was still overwhelming.”
“You’ll get used to it. Give it a few weeks.”
I sigh and throw back my champagne. “I know you’re right. And seriously, Gareth, that job is everything I hoped it would be. I’m just worried they’ll realize I’m a fraud.”
“You’re not.” He refills my glass. “Far from a fraud. You keep forgetting that I hired you, and I’m the hardest boss in the world.”
“That’s a good point, you are a real bastard in the workplace.”
“And you’re a delight. Don’t get down on yourself.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.” I nod slightly, grinning. “Look at us. It’s weird how comfortable this feels.” I regret saying it as soon as it’s out of my mouth, but I can’t take it back. His eyes flash to mine, but instead of anger or discomfort, he’s smiling.
“I actually have some news.” He squeezes my right foot then slowly leans forward. “It’s about Boston.”
“Got an apartment?” I ask, since he hadn’t mentioned anything about his living arrangements in a while. My guts feel soft and squishy. I thought I could handle talk about his move, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe it would be better if we pretended like it had already happened.
“Actually, no, and I need to tell my realtor to stop looking.” He reaches out and takes my hands. “I’m not going.”
His words are like gibberish. I stare at him, not comprehending. “Are you going… a little later?”
“I’m not moving, Fiona. I’m not going to Boston at all.”
“I don’t understand.” I shake my head, desperately trying to process, refusing to let myself feel hope. Life’s kicked me in the teeth enough lately—I don’t need more pain. “Did the Crowleys say you could work from here?”