Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
But it’s like I can’t seem to move on.
I’m not really mourning him, but the routine of him. I miss waking up with him, listening to him shower and brush his teeth, hearing him make coffee in the kitchen, finding him on the couch when I got home. All the tiny little habits we built around each other are now gone, and it’s like there’s a hole in my world I can’t seem to fill.
“I know it doesn’t feel like it right now,” Nicole says, snuggling up against me, “but you dodged a bullet. No, you dodged a snake strike.”
“Lucky me,” I murmur, feeling absolutely miserable.
I don’t know how I could get any more pathetic. Not only did my boyfriend dump me after I sent him a risky sext, but he also stole all my stuff and ditched me for a bunch of weirdo reptile freaks. On top of all that, I have the absolute gall to actually miss him, like I have zero self-respect at all. If he showed up tomorrow, I’d probably be pissed and give him the silent treatment for a few hours, but I’d help him move back in.
I’m not a pushover, or at least I don’t think I am, but I’m addicted to keeping everything the same.
Risk and change never lead anywhere good.
I learned that the hard way.
Nicole gets up to pour us some more wine. I finish my glass, feeling miserable, deflated, and slightly buzzed, when my phone starts to ring. I stare at the screen, frowning a bit. I don’t recognize the number.
“Hello?” I answer. Nicole glances at me from the kitchen while she fills our glasses to the brim.
“Hello, Ms. Sorrento.”
That voice. I go very still, my eyes widening. Panic sets in and my brain starts to make a lot of needless connections and leaps.
“Mr. Rossi,” I manage to say, my heart pounding into my throat. “Hello, uh, sir.”
There’s a short pause on the other end. What the hell is my boss calling me for on a Saturday? He’s never done this before, which is why I don’t know this number—it’s probably his private cell.
I’ve been avoiding him for the past week. Whenever he’s around, I scurry away and will myself into nonexistence. It’s bad enough I got dumped and robbed, but my boss getting a sneak peek of my tits is just about more than I can handle. I put that bit of pathetic awkwardness deep down into a very dark part of my brain where hopefully it’ll rot and disappear.
Except he’s calling me now and I’m freaking out.
“I know it’s unusual, but I need you to come into the office.”
I glance at Nicole, blinking rapidly. “Right now?”
“Yes, that would be good.”
“Mr. Rossi, it’s five in the afternoon on a Saturday, and—”
“This isn’t a request. Come into the office. We have something we need to discuss.”
The picture. Oh, god. He wants to fire me, and he’s going to do it on a Saturday.
And why not? I got dumped after sending a sext. Why not get canned on a freaking weekend?
“Okay, sir,” I say, feeling like a total wimp. “I’ll be there in a half hour.”
“See you soon. And, oh, Ms. Sorrento? Call me Renzo. I feel like we’ve become much more intimate after last week’s incident, don’t you think? I haven’t been able to get that little scene out of my mind since.”
He hangs up before I can reply. I lean back, body numb, brain mush.
My boss is thinking about me.
Well, about my naked breasts, but still.
“That was Renzo Rossi,” I say, looking at Nicole as she hands me the wine. I take two big gulps. “He called me into the office.”
“On a Saturday at five?” She makes a face. “Tell him to fuck off.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Seriously, Mads, I know you like your routine but this is way out of line.”
“He mentioned the picture,” I whisper at her, chewing on my lip. Nicole’s the only person I told about that ugly, mortifying chapter of my life.
Her eyebrows raise. “Seriously?”
“Said he hasn’t stopped thinking about it.”
Her eyebrows get even higher. “No shit?”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“This is a booty call.”
I shake my head rapidly. “Absolutely no way.”
“Maddie. Honey. Sweetie. My beautiful child. Your boss just booty called you. He got a glimpse of what you’re working under those frumpy sweaters and he wants it.”
“Stop.” I take two more big sips before putting the glass down. “It’s probably just some office emergency.”
“That can’t wait until Monday? You’re the office manager, not the CFO. No offense.”
“This can’t be a booty call.” I get up and start pacing, hands slick with sweat.
What if she’s right though?
Renzo is gorgeous. There’s no denying he makes me feel something bizarre and very much unwelcome. Whenever the guy’s around, there’s a stupid little voice in the back of my head willing me to throw myself at him.