Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
I try not to let my inner bitch out while I politely shoot down his help.
He’s not jealous, is he?
Sometimes, it almost feels like he’s poking, asking without really asking why Foster gave me this opportunity like it’s a golden cow and not a Trojan horse meant to drive me bonkers.
When the day winds down and I can’t keep my eyes on the screen for another minute, I wait while Mark packs up his stuff. He hasn’t stayed late yet in the time I’ve been here.
Foster, on the other hand...
Foster must not stumble out of this tower until well past eight o’clock at night. He’s still online in the company chat at least that late, but not open to direct messages.
I check his calendar, which Hannah sent me when I asked when he’d be free. I see his last meetings for the day are all virtual, which means he’ll be in his office.
Nowhere to escape annoying influencers with a burning need to pick his brain.
So I push back from my chair and power down my laptop.
Mark looks up with a bright smile I can’t quite read.
Man, does he ever run out of energy?
He’s twenty-six, like he told me the other day, but he could be nineteen.
“Are you heading out, Dess?” he asks, joining me at the door before I lose myself in the bustle of other tired people heading home. “Want to get a drink?”
Oh, God.
My heart flies up my throat.
...is he hitting on me now?
He doesn’t look like he’s flirting, exactly, but shy, soft boys like him never do. He’s not the kind to wink or make some obscene comment.
“Not yet, I have a few more notes to read through,” I say. “Thanks, though.”
“You’re not leaving?”
I grit my teeth.
It’s none of his business, actually.
“Just heading to the ladies’ room,” I lie, for no particular reason.
He doesn’t need to know how desperate I am to see Foster.
“Oh, well, I can wait for you—”
“Mark, no. I have a busy night. Family stuff.” Another lie, and I ignore his slight pout.
“Ah, okay. I’ll leave you to it. Don’t lose any beauty sleep over this place... it’s so not worth it,” he mutters as he ducks away.
Now, it’s making more sense.
He resembles a put-out little boy, sulking as he heads in the opposite direction from the bathrooms.
When I glance back, he’s gone.
I don’t dare wait any longer and rush up to Foster’s office.
“Miss Lancaster?” Miss Cho says from behind the desk. “Are you here to see Mr. Foster? I’m afraid he’s—”
She’s not fast enough to finish that sentence, much less hop out of her chair before I’m speed walking past her.
She can’t catch me before I rip Foster’s huge black double door open like I’m entering a dark knight’s lair.
Just like before, his office is dark, all chrome and slate and glossy power oozing from every pore.
Only today, the last hints of summer sun stream in through the window, bathing everything in soft red fire.
I have to admit, it’s kinda beautiful as the light spills in against the polished shadow and moody greys. That pitch-black color he seems to love might have a hint of forest green in the light.
The light even gilds Foster himself as he glances up from the screen at the intrusion, his face twisted with surprise.
It’s an improvement.
When he doesn’t scowl, he’s slightly more lickable.
A dangerous thought.
Then his brain catches up with his eyes and his face twists sourly, and all is right with his miserable, grumpy world.
“Do you not know how to knock, Miss Lancaster?”
I shut the door behind me while Miss Cho stands there helplessly.
She doesn’t strike me as the type to listen in, but I don’t want our conversation leaving this room. If I’ve come this far, I deserve a little privacy.
Mostly, because I’m about to do something highly embarrassing.
I’m going to ask this soulless gargoyle of a man for help.
I try to keep my emotions under wraps as I step forward and sink into the chair in front of his desk, steepling my fingers.
If we’re going to do this, I might as well be comfortable.
“You ignored my calls and my emails,” I say flatly.
“I was busy. Did Miss Cho not tell you I’m the boss?” He waves a hand at his screens, his jaw pinched.
“You’re not busy now...”
His scowl only deepens.
“You have no clue what I’m looking over right now to keep this machine running—which I would be doing faster if you weren’t here disturbing me.” He looks past me. “I’ve got this, Miss Cho. Kindly go make sure nobody else barges into my office.”
Hannah exits the room while I bite back my snark. Plus, the burning need to know if he’s ever been polite just once in his life.
“What the hell do you want, Miss Lancaster? You’re here for a reason,” he snarls.
“I need more time.”