Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“So, are you saying I can’t bring you into my office, bend you over my desk, and spank your ass?” he asks casually.
“How many others have you done that to?”
“None, but I like the idea of it.”
“I find that hard to believe.” My fingers fidget in my lap at the thought of him in here with another woman like that.
“It’s the truth. I don’t mix business with pleasure, and I have never brought a woman back to my office for sex.”
“Okay…” I stand and hold out my hand for him to shake. Maybe I will drop the investigation. For now. “I will accept your offer on those conditions.”
He stares at my outstretched hand and says, “So, that’s a no to bending you over my desk?”
“That’s a no,” I confirm, and he takes my hand as a knock sounds at the door.
His eyes don’t leave mine as he calls out, “I’m in a meeting.”
“We’re done,” I say, loud enough for the person on the other side to hear.
The door opens, and his sister walks in. I try to pull my hand from his, but he holds tight, not letting me go.
“Maya, why are you here? You’re supposed to be working,” Soren says, then finally releases my hand. His sister’s eyes flick down, noticing the space between us, the ghost of his touch still lingering on my skin, and she lifts her brows ever so slightly.
“I quit,” she replies, crossing her arms. “And why are you in here with that reporter? I recognize her. She’s the one trying to do a story on you.” She pins me with a glare.
“She works for me now,” Soren tells her.
“So, you’re hiring any old riffraff from the street now?” Her words are meant to be mean, but I couldn’t care less what she thinks of me. From what I’ve learned about his sister, she lives off of his money. I didn’t dive too deeply into her, but I found out they’re very close. And right now, she’s looking at me as if I have a second damn head.
“I was just leaving. Have a good meeting,” I tell them, my eyes flicking from one to the other.
Maya’s hostile gaze follows me out, and then she shuts the door with a little too much force behind me.
Whatever their situation is, I could feel the tension in the room.
And I’m delighted to be leaving that behind me.
TWENTY-TWO
SOREN
Maya glares at me, arms crossed over her chest, and hip cocked out on an angle.
“Is she the one you’ve been running to?” she accuses.
I ignore her question, turn away, and sit back at my desk. “Maya, you know better than to come here during working hours.”
She waves a hand in the air. “But it’s okay for her to be here?” she says, her voice getting louder and more obnoxious.
I’m starting to see the side of her that I’ve been blind to, the one that everyone tells me about. But I have chosen to ignore it, as she’s my sister, my only family. Why would I believe the negative things about her when she’s never shown them to me? Or maybe I have simply preferred not to see them.
“Yes, because she works for me. Which is what you should be doing right now,” I remind her.
“I told you I never wanted a job.”
“I’ve cut off all your credit cards, and I’ve stopped giving you money. From now on, all I will be assisting with is your doctor’s bills.”
As I shift my attention to my emails, I hear her heels clicking closer. She picks something up from my desk and throws it at me, just missing my head.
“What the fuck, Maya?”
“You are my family, Soren, and you don’t do that to family.”
“I should have cut you off a long time ago. You’re too old to be still acting this way.”
I click a few buttons, not even glancing her way. She screams in frustration, the sound raw enough to cut through the noise of my thoughts. When I finally turn to face her, she is wiping tears from her face. It was never my intention to make her cry, but I can’t keep enabling her either. Sometimes, doing the right thing feels a hell of a lot like I’m being the bad guy. But I can’t keep giving in. Not anymore.
Arlo has tried to speak to me about this several times, but I’ve always cut him off. Yes, he’s one of the best therapists there is, and he understands my relationship with my sister, but he also said I need to stop giving in to her so much. It’s hard to do when you’re so used to only having one another for support.
“You don’t love me anymore?” she asks, swiping away more tears. “I should have just died with our parents.”
This is what she does—pulls out the dramatics by trying to tug on my very thin heartstrings—because she knows I don’t wish she were dead. I would never. She is a part of my life, and I sometimes wish we had a more normal relationship.