Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
I lean closer, letting him know I’ve heard him in my heart and mind. “It’s my top priority.”
“Good. That’s good, Rafe. That matters to me and I want to be sure of it before I give the final signature.”
The message is clear—if I continue to demonstrate good stewardship as the deal heads into its final stages, he’ll be sure to sign off. But if he sniffs out something he doesn’t like, he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the plug.
I respect his stance. “I’ll take good care of Bespoke,” I tell him. “And the people.”
I leave dinner with Priyam with renewed determination to fulfill my promise.
Who cares that I’m a shell or that my heart is hollow? I’m in London to work and, it turns out, to celebrate Christine’s success.
She’s had a brilliantly fruitful trip and just inked a deal with a new distributor, so the next night I take her out to celebrate.
We go to her favorite pub, a place called The Magpie, where a friendly blonde bartender pours me a scotch and my friend a martini. Taking our drinks, we grab a booth near the back. I lift my glass and clink hers as Miles Davis plays overhead. “Cheers,” I say.
“And to you. Everything seems to be ticking along for you to become an even bigger player in the fashion world.”
“It is. But I want to talk about you. I’m proud of you. This new distribution deal is incredible.”
A hopeful grin lights up her face. “It’s been quite a ride. I’m really excited about this.”
“You’ve worked hard for it.” In business school, we shared our dreams, bonded over how we wanted to find success, help our families, and make a difference.
She smiles softly at me then pats my hand. “And you work hard too. But the difference between us right now is I haven’t met Mister Right.”
“What makes you think Gunnar was so perfect?”
“I didn’t say he was perfect.” She flips her dark hair off her shoulder. “But he may have been perfect for you.” She takes a drink, then gives me a stern stare. “You’ve really been having a good trip with the way you miss him?”
I contemplate her question. Of course I miss Gunnar. I’ve been watching all his games. But I’ve been relentless here. I’ve been the me that I’m accustomed to. The person I felt slipping away the more time I spent with the cocky, charming baseball star.
“I feel like myself again. Like I can finalize the Bespoke deal. I’ve given it my all, and that’s what I’m meant to be doing.” But as I say it, I steal a glance at the TV, hunting for the sports scores.
When I turn back to her, she’s smirking. “You’ve watched every game Gunnar’s played. You’ve checked scores.” She points to the TV. “You can’t stop watching his games or thinking about him.”
I bristle. What does it matter that I follow his career? “The postseason is exciting to watch,” I insist.
She snort-laughs. “And you’re still mad about him.”
This woman. She’s too right, but I can’t waver now, not after Priyam’s shrewd parting words.
I stab the table with my finger. “If you want to know what I’m mad about, I’m pissed that the Dragons are losing in the league championship series.” And that is the absolute fucking truth. I hate that the Seattle Storm Chasers are beating Gunnar’s team.
She tosses her head back and laughs. “Look at you. Talking baseball. It’s adorable.”
“What? It’s a fascinating sport,” I say defensively.
“You’ve never cared for sports before. You love books and music and business and deals and clothes.”
She’s not wrong. But I have an open mind. I’ve come to love the game. “But baseball is intense, especially when Gunnar plays. I should take you to a game sometime when we’re back in San Francisco.”
“I would love to go. But my point is you can’t get him out of your mind or your heart.”
I wince, but I can’t do anything about my annoying feelings. “I’m just worried he’ll be devastated if they lose.”
“Listen to yourself. You should talk to him.”
The Bespoke deal won’t close until the end of the year. Priyam delivered a message. I need to keep my head in the game. “I can’t afford to lose my focus again.”
Her eyes laser in on me. “But can you afford this?” She waves at my chest.
“This what?”
She points at my chest. “Being hollow.”
I am hollow. But I’m also a liar. I lied when I told Gunnar I came to London for business. I do have business here, but I left early to escape the temptation of him.
A lot of good that did.
“I don’t know what I can afford anymore,” I say with a sigh. I have to be honest with her and honest with myself.
Four days later, I give in fully to my obsession. I invite Christine to my hotel suite to play midnight poker and watch the Dragons game. We nosh on crisps and drink beer while I pace because his team is losing. I hate it. But he’ll hate it more.