Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
When he raises an eyebrow at me, my words register in my tired brain.
I did not just say that to him!
I start blinking at him, and then an apology falls over my lips, “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Mr. Vitale.”
His intense eyes stare a hole into my freaking soul before he says, “You look sick. Maybe you should take the rest of the day off.”
Surprised, I squawk, “What?”
“Go home, Miss Blakely. I can manage without you for one day.”
A frown forms on my forehead. “I’m not sick. I can work.”
“Go home before I change my mind and make you work until midnight!” he barks.
I spin around and make a beeline for the door, but before I can escape the chamber of wrath, he snaps, “And you better be back to your full potential tomorrow!”
“Yes, sir.” I almost freaking curtsy. “Thank you, sir.”
Why the hell am I thanking the king of bastards?
Still, at least he didn’t fire me for calling him an asshole.
I switch off my computer and grab my bag from the drawer.
Never again am I staying up that late.
Leaving the building, I head to the subway station, and once I’m seated on a train, it becomes the fight of my life to stay awake.
The moment I walk into my apartment, I let out a groan and drop down on the couch. I kick off my high heels, and curling up into a fetal position, it only takes a minute or two before I’m fast asleep.
Waking up, I’m confused and don’t even know what day it is.
It takes me a moment to remember what happened earlier, and now that I’ve had some rest, dread pours into my veins.
God, after all the hard work I’ve put in over the past few weeks to impress Mr. Vitale, I just had to screw things up.
I pull my handbag closer and dig my phone out of it. When I check the time and see I only slept for two hours, I dart up and rush to the bathroom to fix my makeup and hair.
Maybe I can still salvage things. I’ll work late tonight to make up for the shit show this morning.
When I look good as new, I hurry out of my apartment and take the subway back to work.
Nerves tighten my stomach, and I brace for the wrath of God as I walk into the building.
During the ride up to the top floor, I nibble anxiously on my bottom lip and when the elevator doors open, my legs feel a little weak.
No matter what happens, I’m going to work my butt off.
When my desk comes into view, I see Gloria from the sales department sitting in my chair.
Surprise flutters over her face. “Mr. Vitale said you’re sick.”
“I’m not.” I give her a grateful smile. “Thanks for covering for me, but I’ll take over.”
“Thank God,” she sighs. Getting up, she shakes her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
I watch as she walks away then take a seat at my desk. After I tuck my handbag in the bottom drawer, I check all the emails and notice Gloria couldn’t keep up with Mr. Vitale.
The poor woman.
I put the wireless headset on and fix the contract I botched up this morning. After I email it to Mr. Vitale, I get to work on all the emails.
I don’t know how much time has passed when I suddenly hear, “What are you doing here?”
I startle so bad, that I dart up from my chair and shriek, “Jesus! My freaking heart!”
Seeing Mr. Vitale glare at me, I ramble, “I thought you were out for the rest of the day? I felt better, so I came back to work. I’m sorry.”
Why the hell am I apologizing for coming to work?
He drops a signed contract on my desk. “Courier it to the lawyers.”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes burn on my face for a moment too long, then he says, “I’m leaving.”
“Yes, sir.”
When he walks away, I slump down on my chair and let out a sigh.
If the stress of working for the man doesn’t kill me, the heart attack he tries to give me every other day will.
Just as I’m about to get back to work, my cell phone vibrates with an incoming message. Picking up the device, I unlock the screen, and seeing a text from my mystery man, a smile spreads over my face.
MMM: I’m just checking in to make sure you’re alive, and your boss didn’t kill you.
Samantha: He came close to wringing my neck a couple of times, but I survived.
MMM: I’m glad to hear that.
Samantha: Did you manage to get some sleep?
MMM: Not a single wink.
Shit.
I feel rotten when I read his reply.
Samantha: I’m so sorry. Can you at least squeeze a nap in today?
MMM: Don’t worry about me. I’ll talk to you later.
I place my cell phone on the desk and turn my attention back to my work. Putting the contract in an envelope, I schedule a pick-up time with the courier Vitale Health always uses.