Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“I’m thrilled you called,” she said. “Cole is going to be fine. I think he had a moment where some things looked pretty awful, but he’s on the mend. It’ll take a bit, but he’ll be back on track soon.”
Odd, but okay.
My phone buzzes, and Kirk’s name is printed on the screen. I answer quickly.
“Hey,” I say. “How are you? How’s Charlotte?”
“Hi, Palmer. We’re good. You busy?”
I look around the office. “No. You know how Fridays are. They’re either swamped or dead, and today’s dead. Which is good because this week has been a bit of a learning curve.”
“I imagine it has.” He pauses. “I need to talk to you for a second. I’m not taking you away from anything important, am I?”
Whoa. I get to my feet, my Spidey senses telling me something is off.
“I’m just doing paperwork,” I say as naturally as I can. “What’s up?”
“Palmer . . . I sold the business.”
My hand flies to my mouth. No. Please, no. I squeeze my eyes shut and hold on as the bottom of my world falls out from under me.
“Already?” I squeak.
“It’s fast, I know. The paperwork isn’t finished, obviously. It’s barely started. But I accepted an offer, and it’s going to process. I’m sure of it.”
I get to my feet. “So, what’s that mean for us? I know you had to do what you had to do, Kirk, and I’m not upset with you at all. I’m just . . . you know, worried.”
And scared shitless.
Every cell in my body shakes with trepidation and a fear of the unknown. Will I hate my new boss? Will anyone be my boss, or will he hire all new personnel? Will he scrap the business and use the land for something else?
“I’m not sure what he’s going to do with it, to be honest,” he says. “The offer was very fair, and I didn’t even have to list it. I couldn’t turn it down, Palmer. I hope you understand.”
“Of course.” I just hate it.
“The guy will be by this afternoon,” he says. “He wants to look around. I told him that you’ll be there and would show him around. You don’t mind, do you?”
Yes, I mind. I don’t want to show anyone anything.
I look into Kirk’s office and frown. How on earth am I going to get this place cleaned up so the new owner doesn’t think we’re a complete disaster in here? Ugh.
“Sure. I’ll do whatever you need me to,” I say sadly.
“I’ll come by next week and tell the guys. Please don’t mention it to them. I want to have a bit more information from the buyer about his plans before we upset the guys for no reason.”
“Understood.”
“And, Palmer?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for everything, sweetheart. You’re one of a kind.”
I smile, knowing that should make me feel better. But it doesn’t.
“I’ll let you know when he leaves,” I say.
“That would be great. I’ll be waiting.”
“Okay. Talk soon.”
“Goodbye.”
I end the call and sit at my desk.
My head falls into my hands. I’m unable to cry anymore. I’m unable to really even be surprised by anything. It’s just one thing after another.
I look up as a soft knock raps against the door. Then it opens. I expect to see Burt with a burger.
But it’s not Burt.
And he doesn’t have a burger.
I stand again, rolling my chair back so hard that it smashes against the wall. Tears fill my eyes as if they’ve suddenly remembered how to create moisture.
“Cole?” I ask, as if I might be hallucinating.
“Hey, Palmer.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
COLE
Can you, um, breathe? Please?” I ask.
She parts her lips and drags in a huge lungful of air. The abruptness makes her choke, and she coughs for a couple of seconds, refusing to remove her eyes from mine.
I thought I remembered how beautiful she is, but I was wrong. Her eyes have lost a little of the luster I remember, and her face is blotchy—probably because of me. But she’s still the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen, and all I want to do is hug the hell out of her.
To tell her it will be all right.
To tell her the truth.
And to tell her that I love her.
“What are you doing here?” she asks as soon as she’s able to talk again.
I shift from foot to foot. “Did Kirk call you?”
“Yeah, but what’s that . . . have to do . . . oh shit.” Her eyes go wide. “Don’t tell me . . .”
I walk toward her but stop a few feet away. It’s far enough that I can’t quite reach out and touch her—for the good of both of us.
“We have a lot to talk about,” I say gently.
“Do we?”
Her jaw sets. But the truth is buried in her eyes. She’s hanging on by a thread. She wants to run into my arms as badly as I need her to. But the pride and dignity that I love about her so much keep her from it—and I respect that. Tremendously.