Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
In truth, it had been a long day. She was ready to curl up with the man and sleep. A man she only met along the side of the road this morning. Hard to believe.
She wanted her new life to be spontaneous and it couldn’t get any more spontaneous than today.
He sounded tired when he said, “Tell me about that tat on your shoulder. That’s the only one you got, right? Or do I need to do a search for more?”
Both of them were too exhausted for any kind of thorough “search.”
“Yes. I actually got it my first year at White Rock. You know the saying ‘bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?’ That was me. I started out all eager to be a success and to make a good impression. But always kept my eye on the ultimate prize. I got the tattoo to remind myself to stay focused and not let anyone knock me off that path.”
He tucked a hand under her shoulder and rolled her enough so he could see the powerful statement. She decided to put it there to make it easy to hide. She had picked a really feminine script for the motto she lived by for over a decade.
But no longer. She had a completely new outlook on life.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to the tattoo. “Non desistas, non exieris. I say it right?”
“Close enough.”
“Don’t know what that means. Don’t even know what language that is.”
“It’s Latin. It means ‘never give up, never surrender.’”
He released her shoulder and she rolled back into place to continue using his lap as a pillow.
“Good words to live by.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t fit any more. I gave up and surrendered.”
He placed his hand on her sternum and left it there, a connection that seemed as if his touch was grounding her. Surprise number one thousand and one. “The fuck you did. You mighta gave up on a shitty-ass job but you didn’t give up on yourself.”
“I gave up on my goal of being a top executive of a large organization.” Being a managing director might have been one of the top three spots, but it wasn’t number one.
Should she have been happy with it? Maybe. But she’d always been goal-driven.
She’d been told on the first day she walked into White Rock that no woman had ever been CEO. Hearing that made her more determined than ever. She wanted to be the one to break that glass ceiling. When they bypassed her to promote a man instead, she couldn’t smack her head on that ceiling anymore. She knew it was bulletproof glass.
“Find a new goal. No, fuck that, you already got one. Doin’ whatever the fuck you wanna do while livin’ off the spoils of that war. Right?”
“True. It’s not really a goal, though.”
“Were you happy in your managin’ director spot?”
He remembered what her former position was? Impressive. He had actually paid attention. Surprise number one thousand and two.
She thought about his question. “I thought so. But… Now? I don’t know. I did what was expected, I did what I needed to do to get ahead. But was I truly happy?”
“If you’re askin’ yourself that, then my guess is no.”
By riding Agnes around the country, was she chasing happiness? Was it even achievable? She felt peace, for sure. But true happiness? She wasn’t so sure.
“If you had to get a tat now, what would you get?” he asked.
That was easy. “One that says ‘Just be.’ A short but simple message with a much deeper meaning.”
“And that deeper meanin’?”
“Live your life how you want to live it. Just be. Honestly, life’s too short to concentrate on the wrong things. Or, in my case, to give it to a company that, in the end, only sees you as nothing more than a commodity. I wasn’t a person. I was an asset.”
“Simple and to the point. I like it.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah, you should get it.”
“Where should I put it?” Was she really considering getting a second tattoo?
Why the hell not? She was allowed to be impulsive and spontaneous. She reminded herself that she answered to no one. Not one person.
She didn’t need to explain herself or even make excuses to anyone.
“Somewhere you can see it. You can’t see the one on your back.”
“I can in the mirror.”
“Yeah, but it’s ass backwards in the mirror. Supposed to be a reminder for you and not anyone else, right?”
“Yes, but it was easy to hide there,” she explained.
“Shouldn’t have to hide shit.”
“Women have to hide a lot of shit while working in a man’s world. For a long time I thought I was the same person who I was at work, outside of work, too. It turns out I didn’t like her very much.”
“Like yourself a lot better now?”
She nodded against his thigh. “Yes.”
“I like her, too.”