Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 63862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
I tried to convince myself that it was better than us actually playing house. I attempted to keep myself busy by obsessively watching the stock market, especially what was going on with my Idiot Fund.
After the sixth day of distance, I started to get this weird churning in my stomach each time I walked into the common area, some part of me expecting (and inexplicably dreading) to see a familiar folder full of documents I’d given Harrison twice. This time, signed.
But it didn’t surface.
I was trying to figure out what to do with my day when there was a ringing sound somewhere in the apartment.
Curious, I followed the sound into the study where an actual landline phone sat on the desk.
“Hello?” I answered when it stopped ringing, only for it to start up again.
“Oh, Mrs. Valentine,” Madison’s voice met my ear. “Good. Mr. Valentine asked me to call you.”
“Really? Why?”
Were we using go-betweens now? How mature.
“He can’t find his phone. He figured he must have left it at home and it went dead. He’s in a meeting, so he can’t come home. He was wondering if you could locate it and bring it to the office?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll go look around.”
“Fantastic. Sooner would be better. I think we all feel kind of naked without our phones.”
“Yeah. I’ll go look right now.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Valentine.”
With that, I started looking in the primary bedroom, the closet, and the bathroom. But nothing. Same for the kitchen, living room, and pantry.
I was about to give up when I saw it in, of all places, one of my shoes by the front door. Like he’d maybe missed his pocket and it landed so quietly inside that he didn’t even notice. Because he was in such a damn rush to get out of the apartment before I got up.
As expected, John was waiting for me down at the street. He even offered to bring the phone up to Harrison’s office for me.
I couldn’t give you a logical reason I turned him down.
“You found it!” Madison said, looking relieved as I came off the elevator.
“I did. In a shoe,” I told her, watching her smile.
“I once found mine in my fridge.”
“I’ll just plug it in for him,” I said, waving toward the office.
“Of course. Thanks again.”
I made my way into his glass office, sucking in a deep breath and inhaling that comforting, spicy leather scent that clung to him.
I moved behind his desk, sitting down when I didn’t immediately see a phone cord anywhere.
Apparently, when you had a fancy desk, they hid the plugs inside the top drawer.
I’d just finished plugging it in when I saw Madison exhale hard and grab her purse.
Lunch break, maybe?
So she wouldn’t notice if I lingered for just another moment.
As I was sliding the top drawer closed, my finger hit a button and I jolted when I saw the glass office walls frost over.
“Okay. That’s cool,” I decided, touching the button again and watching the glass go clear.
But, well, there was another button. So I had to press it, right?
This time, the glass didn’t just frost; it went completely white.
And it was right then, before I could undo it, that Harrison moved into the doorway.
“Caught,” I admitted, shooting him a guilty smile. “Look, you can’t have weird secret buttons inside your desk drawer and not expect people to push them.”
For the first time in days, a small smile tugged at his lips.
“I don’t usually expect people to sit in my desk chair.”
“I was looking for your phone cord,” I admitted. “Madison asked me to see if you left it at home. You did.”
“Where?”
“My shoe.”
“Those damn shoes,” he said, shaking his head, but he didn’t seem annoyed, just resigned about their frustrating existence. “Thanks for bringing it. I could have had John bring it over.”
“He offered.”
“Yeah?” he asked, his head tipping to the side.
Something in him seemed to ease. The guard that I’d felt slammed down fully around him lowered ever so slightly.
“Yeah. But I figured I should bring it.”
“Why’s that?”
I wasn’t about to admit it was because I wanted to see him, to maybe hear him say something other than “Dinner’s ready” or “I’m going to the gym” to me.
I shrugged a shoulder.
“I don’t know.”
Harrison sucked in a deep breath, pausing to hang up his suit jacket, then closing the door.
“You haven’t said more than two words to me in a week, but you wanted to bring my phone to my office?” he asked.
“You haven’t been talking to me.”
“Conversation goes both ways, sweetheart.”
The name didn’t sound soft and sweet like it usually did; it sounded sad, tired.
“Yeah, well, you’re better at it.”
“I’m only better at it now because you’re angry with me. You had no problem talking to me in Vegas.”
There was no denying that. I’d told him things I rarely told anyone. Even if I didn’t have much of a memory of it.