Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
I’m feeling more myself today.
“Stop, I have to go to work.” She puts in her pearl earrings as she looks in the mirror.
I turn her toward me and do the top two buttons up on her blouse.
“You don’t like my buttons undone.” She undoes the top one and I do it back up.
“No, I don’t.” I brush my hands down over her hips as my eyes linger on her breasts.
Maybe ten minutes late won’t hurt…. I turn her to face away from me and I cuddle her from behind. I feel myself harden.
“Cecil lets me keep my buttons undone.” She smiles up at me in the mirror.
“Well, he’s not expected to live long, is he?”
I feel her smile against my cheek and damn it, I want to undress and get back into bed with her, if I didn’t have back-to-back meetings I would be doing just that.
“I’ll pick you up from work,” I tell her.
“We can go to your house if you want?”
“No.” I pump her with my hips. “The last two weeks at my place have traumatized me. We’ll stay here for a while.”
My phone beeps with a text.
“I have to go.” I pull out of her arms and head downstairs; I lock the door and head out to the car. Philippe is standing beside the second car and I walk over to him. “Good morning, Philippe.” I smile.
“Morning, boss.” He rocks onto his toes with a big smile.
“Stay with her all day please.”
“Of course, sir.”
I look back up to the window in her bedroom and I imagine her finishing getting ready.
“Beautiful day.” Philippe smiles as if reading my mind.
“It sure is.” I get into the back of the waiting car and smile out the window as we drive down the street. It’s been a very long time since I felt this happy.
It’s a perfect day.
10 A.M.
“You have a meeting at ten with Mr. Kennedy.”
“Uh-huh.” I go through my emails as Antoinette, my assistant, reads my day out for me from my calendar.
“And tonight you have the Biffa Gala event.”
I glance up from my computer. “Tonight?”
“Yes, sir.”
Hmm, I think for a moment. I want to see Alora alone tonight. “I’m unable to attend, please cancel on my behalf and send my apologies.”
She glances up. “I don’t know if—”
“Do it.” I cut her off.
“It’s very late notice, sir.”
“I’m taking a break from all engagements for the foreseeable future.”
She looks up again. “What do you mean?”
“I’m burnt out. I won’t be attending anything after hours at night or weekends until further notice.”
“This weekend you have the Formula One.”
“Cancel.”
“But you always go…. You host an event?”
“Antoinette.” I cut her off. “What don’t you understand with this conversation?”
“Yes, sir.” She writes something down in her calendar. “Is there….” She hesitates as if choosing her words wisely. “Is there anything the matter, sir?”
“No.” I open a new email. “I have a personal project that I’m currently working on and it requires my full attention.”
“Yes, sir.” She scribbles something down. “When will your schedule be reopening?”
“I’ll let you know.”
ALORA
If walking on sunshine were a feeling, I am the golden girl.
My feet haven’t touched the ground all day.
“Just help me put this couch by the window?” I ask.
Jonty holds one end and I lift the other as we struggle to carry the couch. “Why have you decided to move the entire shop around today?” He grimaces as we lift.
“You’ll see.” We put the couch down and I glance around the store. “Okay, now we move that coffee table in front of this couch and a lamp on the table in the corner.”
“Okay.” We lift the coffee table over and Jonty goes and finds a lamp. “How’s this one?”
“Great, turn it on and see how it looks.”
He arranges it and turns it on, a beautiful glow warms up the space. “That’s perfect.” I keep looking around. “Now we need some books and magazines and things to put on the coffee table.”
“Okay.” He takes off in search of them. The best thing about owning an antique store is that we have at least ten of every item you could ever think of. He returns with stacks of books and arranges them in piles and puts a bunch of flowers down beside them. “How’s this?”
“Looks great. Thanks for helping me.” I go out the front doors onto the street and look around, I see Philippe standing to the side against a wall.
“Philippe,” I call. “Stefan.”
They push off the wall. “Yes, Miss Sorenson.”
“Come.” I wave them over. “I made you something.”
“Excuse me?”
I usher them into the store and hold my arm out to the corner. “Ta-da.”
Philippe looks around confused. “I don’t understand.”
“This is your new couch area.”
“What?”
“If you’re going to hang out with me, which Edward is insisting on, I’m not having you stand in the street. I won’t hear of it.”