Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
“That’s not even close to true.” Jack’s expression morphs from hurt to flat-out wounded. “You’re important to me, Ellie. So fucking important. I thought I made that clear. These weeks with you… They’ve been amazing.”
“I thought so, too. But now you’re—”
“You have to know what you mean to me. This Blair situation has nothing to do with the way I feel about you. The way I feel about us.”
I sniff, but I’m losing the battle against a breakdown. It’s time to get out of here. Now. Ten minutes ago. “I’m not sure about us, Jack. I’m not sure about anything right now except that I need to see this story through, and I hope to God you’ll let me.”
Jack calls for me to wait, but I’m halfway to the door and I keep going. I lunge out onto the street, squinting in the suddenly too-bright light as I hurry around the corner and make a break for the subway entrance at the end of the block. I don’t pause or look back until I’m three steps down the stairs leading to the platform.
But when I do, Jack is nowhere to be found.
He let me go.
Without a fight.
It doesn’t bode well for the future of my article or my future with this man who is quickly becoming such a big part of my life.
The best part.
Or so I thought. But maybe I was fooling myself about that, too. All I know for certain is that I can’t remember the last time I felt this low, so far down that even the urine stink on the subway platform makes me ache for Jack and all the dreams I might have to leave behind.
CHAPTER 19
Jack
Day 20 Mon 8/20
By Monday morning, my email inbox is a war zone, each message a grenade lobbed straight into my lap by Blair fucking Keneally.
Subject: Eric Webb
Subject: Next steps with Eric
Subject: Eric’s transition off the team
Subject: We need to deal with this expediently
All weekend I walked around in a haze of anger and denial, trying to convince myself this was just a bad dream. That I’d wake up this morning relaxed and refreshed, Ellie murmuring in my arms, the sun beaming through my windows to bleach away this Blair-induced nightmare.
But of course, it wasn’t a dream. And Ellie’s been avoiding my calls since our argument at the bar Friday, dodging me at every turn. “Eric” hasn’t even shown up for work today.
She’s spooked, which I get. But she’s also pissed at me, which I don’t get. I’m one hundred percent in her corner on this. Can’t she see that I’m only trying to protect her?
Though I know it’s probably futile, I pick up my phone and send Ellie yet another text. You okay?
She doesn’t respond, so I try again. I’m sorry this is happening. I don’t know what the right thing is here, El, but I’m confident we’ll figure it out together. I need you to trust me on this. Please?
Still nothing. Damn it. I know I didn’t handle things all that well the other night, but she’s got to know she can count on me. With this or anything else.
Can we meet for lunch today? I try. Talk this out?
I wait ten more minutes, but my phone is dead silent.
My email? Well, that’s another story. Two more from Blair, less than a minute apart.
Subject: WHERE ARE YOU?
And finally, the one that obliterates the last of my hope—
Subject: Confirmed - meeting with legal
She’s not letting this go. In fact, it seems she’s prepared to double down on the whole bullshit harassment story, all to get Eric out of the way.
I’ve known from the start that Blair didn’t like that I hired Eric without her input, and sure, maybe the two of them butted heads a few times.
But why would Blair do something so extreme?
I’m about to pick up the phone and call her and Ellie on a conference call so we can put an end to this charade once and for all.
But then Hannah buzzes me on the intercom.
“Ryan is on line one for you,” she announces. “He says you’re not answering your cell. Everything okay?”
“Not especially,” I say, more to myself than Hannah.
“Should I take a message?”
“No, put him through.”
I’ve dodged Ryan—and this entire situation—long enough. I need to give him a heads up about Blair, let him know I’m on top of it before he hears it from someone else and blows this whole thing out of proportion.
“Hey, Ryan.” I force a smile, hoping my bullshit cheer shines through to the other end of the line.
“Care to explain why the hell Blair Keneally called me this morning, threatening to sue?”
So much for cheer.
I drop my head into my hand. “I was hoping to tell you about it myself. I’m still gathering all the pertinent info.”
“Dude, she told me your new broker-boy flashed his junk, and you didn’t even believe her. Newsflash, Jack. When women come forward like this, we fucking believe them.”