Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
“I tried to explain that to them, but they weren’t having it. I’m sorry, Mr. Hughes,” she apologizes again for something neither of us can change. I’m still not sure why Sharon insists on using my formal name. I’ll never understand. There’s no way to fix it, though. I’ve tried, for years, and nothing has changed.
“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize for them being idiots. Can you ask the pilot to get me there by around four o’clock Eastern Time? I’ll call them to confirm a meeting time, and if I can get it done in one day, we’ll return the same day. So, he’ll need to be on standby in case it’s a late night for us, which means you might be on-call if it runs too late,” I tell her to make sure that will work for her. The time difference can be a bitch, but if we lock this down, the overtime she earns will be worth it. “If they don’t make a decision tomorrow by noon, we’ll be walking.” I don’t bother sitting down. The need to get back home, take Cooper out, figure out if Forest or my parents can take him for the day is first and foremost. From there, I’ll do a quick change of clothes because this suit is wrinkled to no end, get to the airport, and take care of what clearly couldn’t be done through a fucking meeting.
“Of course. What time would you like to get to the hangar?” There are some perks of owning a billion-dollar company, a jet being one of them. The other shit that comes with it fucking sucks.
“I’m heading home, figuring out Coop, packing a bag, and then I’ll be on my way. Two hours should do it.” The phone in my pocket buzzes. I’m too busy to deal with it at the moment, gathering my laptop, its charger, and the contract we were going over when shit hit the fan.
“I’ll text you with the confirmation. I’ll keep my phone and computer handy throughout the night. Don’t worry about anything else. Before you say anything else, I’ll have Rob come up tonight to lock up the building.” Sharon is in her sixties, practically my mom’s age, still working while her husband is retired, and I lean on her more than I should. Especially seeing as how we have security downstairs. We’ve learned our lesson in some ways regarding that. Another thing on my to-do list is hiring a new company. The last time they were supposed to lock the building down, one of the guards fell asleep, and it was one of our other associates who caught them fucking off, doughnuts and coffee littering the desk he sat at, his head on his forearm, not hearing a single thing. That was last week, and with everything going on, it’s been the last thing on my mind.
“Rob looking for a job? He’s here enough lately doing favors, I may as well put him on the payroll.” It’s more of a joke, though I wouldn’t be opposed to hiring him even if it were part-time.
“You know he doesn’t mind helping out. If you’re serious, though, I’ll ask him.” I have everything gathered, hand going to my pocket for my phone since it hasn’t stopped vibrating. Something must be wrong, and at the rate life is throwing blows, I imagine it’s just another hit.
“Please do. I’d rather pay him, knowing he’ll actually do the job, and maybe you’ll take a vacation besides the forced variety.” Sharon is a workhorse, putting in the hours, barely taking vacation. She’ll even come in sick. That’s when I put my foot down and send her right back home.
“You got it, and you’re one to talk about vacations. The only time you’re not working is when your family needs you. Maybe we both should take the same advice.” I look down at my phone. Alerts of texts from my mom. Those are images, so I’m assuming they’re of the girls. One from Forest saying thank you, and another from Hendrix that must be long seeing as how it’s only giving me a preview.
“Not a bad idea. I’m out of here.” I make a mental note to respond once we’re wheels up in the air.
“Fingers crossed it’s fast and things go smoothly with the contract,” Sharon says as I walk out of my office. My mind is already mentally going through a checklist of shit to get taken care of as well as a speech to give these fuckers for lying in the ground with their dick in the dirt.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Hendrix
It’s been twenty-four hours since I sent a text message to Madden, and while I want to be the psycho girl who would fire off even more texts and calls, even I’m not that crazy. Though, I’m on the verge of sending a follow-up message, which is saying something because it was me who called a halt to everything and anything Madden Hughes. Thankfully, work is keeping me preoccupied from doing that in the form of steaming Journey’s clothes she’ll be doing a try-on session live on a huge website that will be broadcasted to anyone who joins in. I even called my cousin, Cadence, last night, complaining about Madden. We’re those cousins who oftentimes life gets in the way. We forget to call or make plans to see each other, but once one of us makes that phone call, it’s like zero time has lapsed. Cadence told me about this new job she’s starting, it’s a second job and has warning bells blaring in my head but she assured me that it wasn’t what it seemed and if things ran like it was supposed to she would be able to quit her boring job at the medical office she works at currently plus this new one she’s picking up and would be able to focus on the business she wants to run online to sell vintage and antique jewelry. After receiving the clarity that she wouldn’t be an escort, I listened to her, excited that it would make her money while she works to get her business up and off the ground.