Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
I don’t like that he says that about me. Prize? I am a fucking woman, not someone’s object to be unwrapped and thrown to one side.
“I would have never gone to that island if I didn’t owe a debt,” I tell him honestly. “And if I knew where I was going, I more than likely wouldn’t have gone anyway.” I place my coffee down as he nods at my words.
“Fair enough. I’m guessing you won’t be telling me about the debt you owe?”
“Sorry, no.” I put the coffee cup to my mouth.
“Keep the money. I’m serious. Honestly, it’s a thank you for keeping me company and saving me money.” He smiles, it is infectious, and I smile back at him.
“I could never.”
“Are you still looking for work?” Nicholas asks, folding the newspaper in front of him.
“No. I got my old job back, it seems.”
“Oh.” He raises an eyebrow. “How did that happen?”
“Atlas.”
“Uh-huh.” He nods. “I see.”
“I don’t. I don’t understand him.”
“You are a beautiful woman. He sees that in you.”
“Atlas sees many beautiful women.”
“That he does, but no one like you.”
We stay and talk a little longer. Nicholas tells me about his work and why he is in town. As we get up to leave, he asks if he can walk me back to my house. I think nothing of it, as I enjoy his company. I tell him about my running, and he jokes about the fact I could probably outrun him. When I laugh at something he says, he wraps a hand around my waist, pulling me to his side.
“Zander.”
My head turns fast at that voice.
“Sorry?” I ask, looking from Nicholas to Atlas who is waiting at his car in front of my house.
“Zander, why are you hanging around my things?”
Nicholas drops his hands from my shoulders and smirks at Atlas. “You shouldn’t call this beautiful woman… your things,” Nicholas says before he turns and offers me a smile. “I should go. Thank you for coffee, I enjoy your company immensely, and I hope to do it again soon.” He looks to the car. “Atlas,” he says with a sly grin, and turns, walking off. I watch Nicholas leave, and when I look back at Atlas, his eyes are wide open, set in a glare, his body tense as he stares at me.
“You couldn’t wait. Really?” Atlas shakes his head as he spits the words from his mouth like pure venom.
“Wait for what?” I ask him.
Atlas’s eyebrows pull down as he locks his stare firmly on me. “You are just like her… more than you realize. More than I realized.” He turns for his car.
“Atlas! What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You are a whore.”
My head snaps back, expelling an audible yet cut off breath while becoming momentarily speechless. Once his words sink in, I say, “You did not just call me that.” I hold up one hand. “You so did not just call me that.”
“Do you deny it?”
“Dickhead! One coffee with a man I met because of you, does not make me a damn whore.”
“Coffee? That’s what you like to call it?”
I won’t play his games, so I turn away and head to my door.
“I’ll see you on Monday,” I tell him while opening it.
“No, you will not.”
I turn back to look at him. “I could be rash right now and fire you,” he says, slipping on his sunglasses and looking in the direction Nicholas walked. “But I’ve decided keeping you around will be fun. You will see Sydney on Monday and report to her.” He gets in his car and drives off, leaving me wondering why the fuck he’s so angry. Surely it can’t be because of Nicholas. I met the man because of him.
Atlas was true to his word. He wasn’t in the office on Monday or all week for that matter. I managed to hire back all the staff I lost, and I have guaranteed their jobs at Sydney’s request. She came in once to check with me, then left, and I haven’t seen her all week.
When Friday rolls around, I want answers. Like for one, why hasn’t my sister called if Atlas let her go as he promised. She cannot be that heartless, surely? She would know what I have had to do for her. What I have had to go through. The least I should get is a simple thank you.
Walking out to my car after work to meet Tina for dinner, I spot Sydney with a bunch of paperwork in her hands as she comes up to the warehouse.
“Sydney.”
She stops, huffs, and looks up at me. “Yes.”
“My sister…” I trail off the question right there.
“Yes?” She asks, her eyes drilling into me.
“Where is she?” I am hoping for some kind of damn truth.
“Where does your sister go? I have no idea. Shouldn’t you be asking her yourself, not me?”