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’d like to test that theory one day.”
“I’m sure you would.” She chuckles, then goes back to her closet and stores the gun in a safe I didn’t notice before. She walks back out, takes the coffee from me, and waves a hand toward the door. “Goodbye, Soren. Don’t come back.”
“But you’ll miss me too much if I don’t come back,” I tease.
“I will not, in fact, miss you too much. I won’t miss you at all.”
I move in and quickly steal a kiss, the split in my lip throbbing. Fuck, even with the hint of coffee lingering on her lips, she still tastes amazing. When I step back, her eyes are narrowed at me.
“Have a good day, Hurricane. I’ll see you Monday at work.”
She groans, and I step out of her house, closing the door slightly behind me. I flex my hand in the morning light, fingers curling slowly, tracing the faint puncture marks where Cressida’s fork dug in. A small reminder of her edge, which has a small grin tugging at my mouth.
A voice cuts through the quiet. “Soren, right?” I turn to see her ex-husband standing just a few feet away. His posture is rigid, shoulders squared like he’s bracing for a fight. His jaw is tight, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrow, sharp, and calculating, watching me like a predator sizing up prey.
No surprises here.
He’s been waiting for this moment. Waiting to challenge me.
“Yes.” My voice is steady, cold as steel.
He steps closer, eyes flashing. “You stayed the night with Cressida?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say flatly, with no hesitation.
He studies me, searching for a crack. But I don’t give him one. Inside, I’m already planning how to make it clear this isn’t a fight he wants.
He nods and glances around. “Taylor has told me about you. I don’t know if I feel comfortable with a man like you around my son.”
“I’m not planning to be around your son,” I tell him, then add, “What does it matter who is fucking your ex, or did you forget, you got engaged and didn’t even bother to tell the mother of your child?” I dig in a little further, because why the fuck not? I don’t owe him any explanation.
“That’s between us,” he adds.
“And who she fucks is between us, at this current time,” I throw back at him.
He just stares at me, and that’s when I notice his car still sitting out at the curb.
He knew I was in there. Interesting.
“How did you know I was here?”
“It was a guess.” That’s all the explanation he gives before he turns away and goes back to his car.
THIRTY-ONE
CRESSIDA
On Monday morning, when I walk into the office, Soren’s assistant informs me that he’s in a meeting. She then shows me where my office is, which is conveniently located right near his. Pushing open the door, I spot a large box sitting on the desk.
“You have a meeting scheduled in an hour to get to know your staff. I’ll come back and remind you.” She leaves without another word, and I move over to the glass-topped desk with a black office chair behind it. I survey the box. It’s closed, but the lid has my name written on it. I know I didn’t order anything, so maybe this is something to do with work.
After pulling the lid off, I remove the packing material to find a vase. It’s just like the one I threw at Soren. But this one is a little larger and costs thousands more.
He bought me a new vase to replace the one I broke.
I’m not even sure how to feel about that.
Last night, while Oliver was eating spaghetti, I was searching online for another vase like the one I had. The only one I found was this one. However, it was too expensive, so I kept on looking. I could have bought a knockoff, and I considered it. Now I guess I don’t have to worry about it. Smiling, I reach my hand in and lightly run my fingers over it.
“Now, if I could just get you to smile and touch me like that.” I look up to find Soren leaning against the doorframe, watching me intently.
“You got me a new vase.”
“I did. Do you approve?”
“I do. It’s beautiful. Thank you,” I tell him, and pull my hand back out.
Soren pushes off from the doorframe and comes to stand beside me. He lifts the box from my desk and places it on the floor. “I know something that’s even more beautiful,” he says, and I don’t ask him what. “Are you ready to meet your staff?”
“What have you told them about me?” I ask, opening my bag and pulling out my notepad and pen.
“They already know about you.”
“How?”
“You may not be aware of this, but your name is actually quite well known in media land.” He winks. “They are thrilled to be working with you, and know that you haven’t been in this type of role for a while, but that you have experience with the job.”