Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
I’m angry, too, but now the reason has shifted.
He can’t put the outcome of the will on my shoulders, and he is.
That’s blackmail.
And I both love and hate his willingness to stoop to such levels. Just as I love and hate him.
He opens the door to his office, and I jerk around and start my own unsteady pace toward the main lobby.
Chapter Thirty-One
Bella
My office has always been my sanctuary and playground as much as my home.
That’s how much I love what I do.
But today, I’ve barely claimed my plush leather chair, another perk of the success I’ve worked hard for, when my cell buzzes with a message. I shove my purse in my desk and dig out my phone only to feel a twist in my belly at the caller ID. It’s Becker, and I’ve forgotten dinner and his show tonight, which any other woman would call insanity.
Pick you up at six? his message reads.
Guilt over Tyler turns that twist in my belly into full-on gut-wrenching, which is ridiculous. In fact, let me count the ways.
I do not want Becker.
I’m not even Tyler’s woman or baby or sex bunny, for that matter. Okay, for a weekend. But that’s all.
Becker is a potential client Tyler himself told me to score for the firm, and I’ve proven patience breeds success. I have three huge clients that came by way of social connections.
I wait for all of those things to wash away my guilt, but that’s a big nope. Still feeling it.
I set my phone down without answering it. I’ll make a far more level-headed decision when I’m not thinking about how good Tyler smelled in the corridor five minutes ago.
Another text alert sounds and I’m certain I’m about to be forced into handling this now when I’m in the wrong state of mind, but turns out this one is from my father: You’re coming to my race, right?
I am, I reply. I really need out of town. Dash and Allie will probably come. I think I asked them. I can’t remember. I’ll ask again.
Perfect. Love you.
Love you, too, Dad.
My lips curve at his timing. He always seems to send me a message at those moments when I’m spinning out of control. Almost as if Mom whispers in his ear, now. Contact her now. Not that my father doesn’t get credit for being a good dad. He has to have an ear to the sky with me on his mind at just the right time, as well.
I shoot a message to Dash about the race, and apparently, I’d already talked to him. I’m consumed by Tyler, I swear. After Dash is confirmed yet again, I line the nanny up for that weekend but vow that when Molly is older, I’ll take her with me. I’ll love that so much.
I also love the busy morning that follows as it helps me get out of my own head.
My assistant interview with Morgan is over lunch in the company café. After the incident in the café, I’m uneasy about staying at the office, but too busy not to as well. Luckily, as it turns out, there are no signs of Tyler. Almost as if he’s now hiding from me, which isn’t true. He’s almost never in the café anyway, but I really hate that there’s a pinch of disappointment in my chest with every push of the café door open that produces a person who is not him.
Morgan’s a sweet girl, who is the only person in a big family who isn’t a doctor. She hates blood.
I like her. I think she’d make a good agent, and I know her attention to detail is spot-on from working with her here and there. I’m just too unsettled about my job right now. On the other hand, I managed some difficult challenges today and came out ahead.
I like my job.
My mother would be appalled if she knew I allowed myself to have sex with my boss, let alone run away because of it.
With her on my mind, I arrive back to my office and claim my seat, turning my attention to her photo on my credenza. She was gorgeous, a Christie Brinkley lookalike people always tell me, with a business savvy to admire. If only she were here to talk to me. I think she’d tell me I’m being pushed to go on my own and steer my own ship, as she did. Or maybe she’d tell me to take what I want, which is this job, and Tyler.
With that thought, I turn my attention to work and my email. Tyler still hasn’t responded to the press release I sent him for Dash, and I have to get back to the studio. I ask myself what I would have done before all this personal stuff between us. I decide I’d go to his office. If I’m going to stay, I have to act like me. I grab the paper version on my desk and don’t give myself time to think, I head to Tyler’s office.