Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I’m an investment banker. I manage money for many, many corporations, basically.”
“For Chamberlain something-or-other?”
“Chamberlight,” I corrected. “Sounds like you’re the one who’s been Googling me.”
“I Googled you once, a couple of years ago, because Mom and Greg hadn’t heard from you in weeks and they were worried,” Sam said. “We found out a lot about Chamberlight Investments and also saw an interview where you talked about some girlfriend.”
I furrowed my brow. “I never talk about my personal life in interviews,” I said. “What are you talking about?”
Sam shrugged. “Some Ukrainian businesswoman, right? It sounded like you were head over heels for her.”
“Mariya Morozova?” I asked. “Mariya is not my girlfriend. I’ve never even met her in person.”
“Sure sounded like you had a hard-on for her.”
“She’s an incredible investor, and one of the sharpest people in our field,” I said. “I admire Mariya, and I’d love to meet her one day, but I did not have a hard-on for her.”
“Okay, okay,” Sam said, holding up his hands. “I’m sorry.”
I took a deep breath. “It’s fine, Sam,” I said softly.
“Anyway,” he said, looking over at the other side of the bar as another few customers sat down. “It sounded like your career completely took off. Congratulations, Fox. You really got what you’d always dreamed of.”
“And you got what you dreamed of, too,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows at me. “What’s that?”
“A job you’re clearly good at. Lots of friends. And you’ve got a perfect body. At least half the guys in here are staring at you.”
He blushed a little, looking down at the floor. “Give me a break, Fox.”
It was a shocking reaction. Sam was flaunting his body on Instagram every day, and even back when he’d been a gangly teen, he’d always strutted his stuff like he was hot shit.
So why was the most confident person I’d ever met currently blushing and bashful in front of me?
“What?” I asked.
“Don’t be condescending,” Sam said. “I know I don’t have what you have, and I know I can’t afford Prada suits, but I really do like my life.”
I was silent for a moment. “I wasn’t being sarcastic, Sam,” I said. “You look great.”
He puffed out a little laugh, his blush getting a little deeper. “Well, thank you,” he said, fidgeting with a pint glass in front of him. “You still look the same as you always did.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult,” I said.
He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering over every inch of my body. For some reason I liked it, enjoying being sized up by Sam.
“I take it back,” he finally said. “You look better, too. Less desperate.”
I scowled at him. “I was not desperate in high school.”
“You sure about that?” he said, a slight grin on his face.
“Okay, maybe a little,” I said. “Maybe a lot. I really wanted to be a successful businessman.”
“But at seventeen you still wanted it, badly,” Sam said, finally meeting my eyes. “Now you act like you already have it. And you know it. More comfortable, I guess. More satisfied.”
“You know what would really satisfy me?” I asked in a low purr, the kind of voice I usually reserved for girls I was about to take into bed.
Sam’s eyes widened, just a little, as I leaned in closer to him from across the bar.
“Another martini,” I said softly.
His expression went flat in a split second. “Okay. Yep. You’re still a prick.”
I laughed, leaning back. “I appreciate it, Sam,” I said, watching as he quickly shook me another drink.
After sliding the new drink in front of me, he went over to help the other new customers. I sat sipping the rest of my martini, still feeling woefully out of place being back in Kansas.
In one sense, Sam was right. I’d always dreamed of being a top investment banker, and over the past few years, I’d accomplished it. But I also felt trapped, more and more with every passing day. It was the most demanding work I’d ever done. I was pretty shitty about delegating tasks, and my assistant and Maxine delicately referred to me as a “benevolent control freak.” Until now, I’d never taken a single vacation since I’d become an exec at Chamberlight.
This week, there were about a dozen different meetings happening that I already felt guilty for not attending.
There were plenty of coworkers looking after my clients and accounts while I was gone, but I still had a nagging feeling like I’d abandoned my duties by coming on this vacation. After the last few years, it felt impossible to trust anyone. Even people who’d seemed like they were my friends.
I dropped a crisp fifty-dollar bill on the bar, tossed back the rest of my martini, and headed back out the front doors into the night alone.
3
Sam
“I’ve arrived,” I said as I came through the front door of Mom and Greg’s house. They still lived in the same house they’d bought when they got married—a cozy, bungalow-style two-story house, nestled in an acre of tall trees.