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)
I was at a work event when I first saw Soren. He’s pretty well known in media circles. He owns and operates a large corporation and is the media mogul of many news channels. Not the one I work for, which I think he hates because no matter how much he tries to stop me, it won’t work.
“Soren called.” I lift my head to find my boss, Michael, at my office door as I’m packing up to leave for the day.
“And?” I pull my bag strap over my shoulder. The damn thing is heavy, with my laptop weighing it down.
“He said you’ve been harassing him.”
“There’s a big story there. Do you not want to be the first to drop it?” I ask.
“You weren’t meant to go after him. We have discussed this. Soren is powerful. I want you to remember that.” Michael isn’t telling me to stop, but his warning is clear. He understands what I’m doing, even if he disagrees with it.
“I get it, and I’ll be careful.” I smile at him. I didn’t tell him about going to the fight last night because I don’t have to share the details of my investigation with him. I only have to show him the outcome of my research, which works well for both of us because he doesn’t have to lecture me about how I shouldn’t be doing certain things, and I don’t have to listen to the lecture and then ignore whatever he’s said. I like to investigate stories on my own because I feel like I have a more personal connection when I do it myself.
I catch the train back to my place. Noah is already inside with Oliver when I open the door. We both have a key to each other’s homes. Though we’re no longer together, we’re still good friends. We understand that we don’t use the keys unless it involves our son, and the other person has to approve it first.
“Mom, you’re home.” Oliver, who is seven, looks up from where he and Noah sit with a pizza between them on the kitchen table.
“I see you cooked.” I waggle my brows at them.
“I got in late… pizza was the easiest choice,” Noah says, then stands. He wipes his hands on his blue trousers. He looks good, though he never really looks bad.
“Got a hot date tonight?” I ask him as I walk over and kiss his cheek. He kisses mine back and then shakes his head.
“No, just working late.”
Noah’s a banker, and he’s a good one. His family owns a lot of commercial property, so he’s always been well off. I come from a more modest background, but we didn’t do badly for ourselves either. Still, I wouldn’t be where I am today without his help or the influence of his family.
“Can I chat with you outside?” Noah asks and nods toward the door. I kiss Oliver’s head as I put my bag down, then I follow Noah out. I shut the door so our voices won’t carry back to Oliver.
“I had a visitor today,” he tells me, sliding his hands into his pockets.
“Okay,” I reply, confused as to what that has to do with me.
“Soren Nixon was waiting outside my building today when I left to pick up Oliver.” I bite my lip at that information. Of course, he was. “He mentioned he knows you.”
“He doesn’t know me,” I bite back, harder than I intended.
Noah lifts his hand and runs it through his blond hair. “Okay. Well, I just wanted to say, if you’re doing a story on him—”
“What?”
“If you are, just be careful.”
“Do you think I’m ever not careful?” I place my hand on my hip and scowl.
“I know you are an independent woman and don’t need a man’s help. But, Cressida, I still care about you and never want anything to happen to you.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I always am.” I smile, and he gives me a disbelieving look in return. I don’t mention the small threat that Soren made because I’m always careful when it comes to Oliver, but I can’t lie and say it didn’t shake me up a little bit.
Our marriage was over years before we got divorced. We knew it was never going to work, but we tried to stay together for Oliver. Doing the right thing for our son is the one thing we will always agree on.
We change the subject, and he tells me about Oliver’s day before he says he has to go. I stand on the stoop, watching him leave for a few minutes before I finally head inside.
I’ve been single for two years now, and I haven’t really moved on. A part of me is scared to because I don’t want to bring strange men around my son. He already has a great father, so I don’t want or need someone stepping in when it’s not necessary.