Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 61939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“You have a really nice condo,” I said, attempting to break the ice. “It looks like it was plucked straight from a magazine.”
“The editors from Architectural Digest would be thrilled to know that.”
“Can I ask you something personal?”
“No.”
“I’m going to state my question anyway.”
“I’m expecting it.”
“Why don’t you ever make time in your calendar for friends and family?”
He arched a brow.
“Your life can’t possibly be all work… You do have friends and family, right?” I asked.
“What I have are boundaries, Miss Stone. I don’t talk about those things for a reason, and that won’t be changing anytime soon.”
Of course…
He stared at me again—making my body react against its will, and I was tempted to ask if he could write the reasons why I needed to be here since he wasn’t going to say them.
“I think you and I can skip the entire ‘What do you do here?’ conversation,” he finally spoke. “We can just jump straight to your current pay grade, if you’ll be okay with that.”
As if I have a choice. “That’s fine.”
“Good.” He opened a folder. “I’m assuming that your current listed salary is a typo, so…”
He tore out a sheet and slid it toward me with a pen. “Cross it out, correct it, and then we’ll start negotiations from there.”
I picked up the sheet, and my hand tightened around the pen as the number stared at me.
69,998.00
“It’s not a typo,” I said. “This is correct.”
He blinked. “Correct, as in what you make per year, or per quarter?”
“Funny.” I returned the sheet. “Per year. I was supposed to get a twenty-five percent raise right before you—uh—well, you know.”
He sighed and took a long sip of wine.
“Were there any salary escalator clauses in your contract?” he asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “But I did get three and five thousand a few times a year, so it pushes my salary about ten to twelve thousand higher here and there.”
“Okay, Miss Stone.” He shut the folder. “That’s the end of your salary negotiation session.”
“How? You didn’t make a counter-offer or say anything.”
“I don’t need to,” he said. “Your current salary tells me everything I need to know.”
“I’m afraid I’m not following.”
“I’m going to handle your new salary on my own,” he said. “I’ll send you an offer letter after I think on the numbers for a while.”
“I can’t afford to make any less,” I said. “So, if you’re thinking about making it lower, tell me now so I can quit.”
“I’ll tell you when I send the offer letter,” he said, finishing off his wine. “In the meantime, I’m changing course on our missing money operation, so I’ll be adjusting your job title soon as well.”
“I see.” I crossed my arms. “So, this meeting was pointless.”
“Not at all.” He smirked. “We got to see each other outside the office. In different attire. That’s not pointless at all.”
“You’re delusional if you think I’m attracted to you.”
“I know you are.” He stood up. “I knew that from day one, if you recall.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Okay, Miss Stone.”
“I’m serious.”
“I said okay.” He walked ahead, ushering me to follow him back to the front door, but then he stopped and turned around.
“Why haven’t you taken the CPA exam?” He caught me off guard with his question.
“I…” I stalled. “I haven’t had enough time to study for it.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said. “You could’ve taken it years ago.”
“I wasn’t ready.”
“I don’t believe that either, but I’ll let it slide for the answer to something else.” He looked into my eyes. “You’re only nine credits short of your master’s, and I doubt the remaining business structure and tax code classes are that difficult, so—explain why you’re putting that off.”
I swallowed, stunned that he knew all this.
I was ready to give him the same excuses I gave to Everly and Lisa every time it crossed their minds: “The hardest classes are last and they each require fifty-page papers. I only have five done.”
“Miss Stone?” He stepped closer. “Why?”
“The answer to that is a boundary for me,” I said. “Surely you can understand that.”
A faint smile crossed his lips, but it faded seconds later.
“I haven’t been on speaking terms with my father since I was twenty-five years old—when I found out he took out hundreds of credit cards and bank loans in my name,” he lowered his ‘boundary’ from earlier. “But I do see my mother whenever she comes to town and we talk twice a week. That’s my only family, and friend-wise I have Aaron and Ciara. It just so happens that they work for me, and we’re all workaholics.”
“I can’t afford to finish my master’s because the loan repayments will start six months after I graduate, and I don’t make enough to cover them.” I finally said the truth aloud. “I’m paying my sister’s way through nursing school, and if she wants to take another year to complete a specialty program—it has to wait until then.”