Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
He studies me. “You weren’t in love with Dalen.”
“No, but she’s a good friend.”
“Hence, my point. The spark wasn’t there. As Natalie would say, she wasn’t your person. So, if Mom’s really trying to fix the unfixable, let her. Maybe you’ll both come out winners.”
Bored by my love life being the topic of conversation, I return my attention to the doc displayed on my monitor. “I need to get back to work.”
“Look, I get it, Andrew. You put your life on hold for years, worked your ass off, and have been rewarded. You’re married to your job. But one day, you’re going to wake up and wonder if an actual life was worth the sacrifice.”
“Until regret sets in, I have three reports to finish before morning, and you have a wife waiting for you to return home to, so if you’ll excuse me . . .” I don’t need to look up to know he’s staring at me, most likely disappointed. I can feel it. But the silence stings, so I give in, not something I often do. “What?”
What I expected isn’t written in his expression. Though I don’t understand the sympathy I do find. He finally says, “Natalie is waiting on me. We have reservations at eight thirty at this great restaurant in Tribeca. It’s been there forever, long past being trendy. If you ever need a place to take a date, Asado is the place. Try the empanadas.”
My stomach growls, reminding me that I forgot to eat lunch. Mostly because I was distracted by Juni and those hazel eyes of hers, the delicate curve of her neck where it meets her shoulders, and those lips—bare and licked with care as we stood on the sidewalk.
What the hell am I thinking?
She was a hurdle in my day, at best. At worst, I was shit on. So yeah, the fond thoughts of the two encounters twist into annoyances. A debt . . . I scoff.
A loud clap snaps my mind into the present, and Nick asks, “You want to share whatever’s on your mind because I have a feeling it’s not the accounts you’re working on?”
“No.”
“Figured, but since you didn’t hear me the first time, I thought I’d repeat myself. Natalie and I are hosting a dinner party on the twenty-fourth. I’m giving you three weeks’ notice, so save the date. You’re not getting out of it. No working that Saturday night or saying you’re too tired. I’m RSVP’ing for you now.”
He heads for the door. After he opens it, he looks back. “Let us know if you’re bringing a plus-one.”
“I don’t know anyone in this city who could be a plus-one, so you’re stuck with me coming alone.”
“Natalie can set you up on a date if you’d like. She has plenty of single friends looking for love in all the wrong places.”
“Wrong is right, so I’ll pass.”
“The offer still stands. Anytime you’re ready, just let us know.”
“I think Mom’s rubbing off on you.”
He chuckles. “Have a good night, man, and don’t work so hard.”
The door closes before I can think of a comeback, and silence invades the space like he was never here. Enough light still claims it’s still day when I look out the windows, but night’s coming in quick. I won’t make it home before nightfall at this rate, so I bury my head in work and get these reports done.
I look up, my body stiff from sitting too long. Stretching my neck to the side, I realize darkness has only taken over outside. It’s past ten. Again. Work has stolen another night out from under me.
But as I pack up, Nick’s words return. “One day, you’re going to wake up and wonder if an actual life was worth the sacrifice.”
Scrubbing over my face, I attempt to fight the tiredness that’s overcome me, but I’m done for the night. I’ll blame the start of my day since that threw everything else off.
The monitor goes dark as I grab my jacket and slip it on. When I open the door, most of the lights are turned off, and the vacuum roars somewhere down the other corridor. No other employees should be here, but I do a quick walk around just to make sure. Working late is practically in the CEO’s job description, but for others, I’m hoping they find the balance that eludes me.
I nod to the cleaning crew on my way out. I know I’m not the only one working in this thirty-five-floor building, but it sure feels like it as I ride down in an empty elevator. This may be a first for the bustling building.
The lobby lights are dimmed, and the security guard is caught up in a cop drama on his covertly hidden phone from the sounds of it. I say, “Good night.”
“Good night,” he replies, glancing up as I pass.