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 won’t come personally unless it’s a board member,” I say. “I’ll send Hannah. One look is the only warning they’ll get before a termination notice shows up.”
A tiny smile touches Destiny’s lips. It feels like a victory.
“Okay, yeah, I can manage that,” she agrees. “I’ll pull everything together in time for the presentation.”
“Good girl.” I watch her for another long moment as she blushes, fighting the warring instincts in my blood.
Then, against my better judgment, I let the hammer fall.
“One more question. Will you come by my place tonight after the presentation? We need to talk strategy.”
14
A Little Sign (Destiny)
The only thing that gets me through the day is the thought that I’ll see Shepherd tonight.
The whispers suck, sure, but what’s behind them feels infinitely worse.
When I walk through the office, all eyes are glued to my back.
At first, it’s pretty openly. But after Hannah’s short, sweet email threatens disciplinary action against anyone who talks about other Home Shepherd personnel, they shift to more subtle disgust.
I can’t hear the rumors, of course, but I know they’re flying.
I’m her.
The cutthroat slut who slept with Shepherd Foster to get ahead.
At least I must’ve been good to land a small fortune in charity money and a trek through nature with the bossman personally.
No email—no matter how stern or official—will wipe the slate.
And thanks to that message, everyone in the office who might not have heard the news certainly knows now.
The only question is how many people believe it.
Knowing my luck, everyone.
And whether they believe it or not, no one resists speculating.
When everyone on my team gets called into the nine-thirty meeting, I head into the kitchen to grab a coffee before it starts. Most of the chairs are empty, and I take advantage of the relative silence to eat lunch early.
Turns out, misery makes you crave carbs, and I think I’ll eat the entire pound of this pasta salad I brought.
“Destiny, hi,” a woman says from behind me.
I jump.
She’s a short, neat woman with auburn hair. “I’m Rebecca from HR. Hannah Cho told me to introduce myself.”
“Oh,” I manage. I haven’t cried since last night, but my eyes are hot and itchy. I shake her hand. “Thanks. Good to meet you.”
“If you hear anything, don’t be shy. Speak up, and I’ll make sure it’s dealt with.”
Her smile oozes so much sympathy, but I’m not sure how it makes me feel.
A little like the kid who has the hall monitor protecting them at recess, I guess.
“Sure,” I force out.
“Everyone knows you’re working hard on your presentation and you don’t need distractions. That’s the same courtesy everyone deserves at Home Shepherd.” She gives me a sharp nod. Her hair is tied up in a tight, professional bun.
She resembles everything I strive to be in an office instead of the hot mess I am today. I feel like a piece of wilted lettuce.
“Thank you,” I say weakly, pinning on a smile. “I’m okay, but I appreciate it.”
She smiles like she doesn’t believe that at all.
And she’s right. I’m so not okay.
“For the record, I’ve seen the photos,” Rebecca adds carefully. “It’s not all bad. Now the world knows about the sea otters. Oh, and I’m not sure anyone knew how much Mr. Foster loves his kayaking.”
The woman is a total cinnamon bun, sincere and sticky sweet.
This time, my smile feels slightly less painted on. “He’s great at it for sure, much better than me. The trip was my first real try at kayaking and he taught me a lot.”
She nods again. “You look exhausted, sweetie. Good luck with your presentation. You’ve got a few of us in your corner, no matter what. Carol wanted me to let you know she promised to strangle someone if they shoot you down.”
I snicker at the image. Relief flutters in my chest, too, knowing I still have her on my side.
“Thanks, Rebecca,” I say again and scurry back to my desk. When I stop by the water coolers briefly, three guys whistle, practically right in my direction before they turn back to each other and burst out laughing.
Idiot ass-clowns.
For a second, I toy with the thought of reporting them to Rebecca, but I can handle a few petty comments without tattling.
I shouldn’t care.
Shepherd wouldn’t.
Even with the Dumas thing, he seemed more concerned about how it would impact the company and the employees under his brand than his own credibility.
The man is a rock, strong and indifferent. I’m sure he’ll throw off the bad thoughts just like he does the ocean waves.
But the difference between us is that I’ve made a living out of what people think about me.
The fact that people trust me on social media makes a difference.
If that trust is shattered, I don’t have a brand anymore.
It’s hard to shake that mentality.
So I shut myself in my office and focus on finalizing my big presentation. Eventually, Mark sidles back in with a look of concern.