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)
I had Milo do a check on her, and we came up with nothing. Miss Blakely lived a normal and boring life in Houston before moving to New York. She doesn’t even have an outstanding traffic fine.
My gut tells me she’s hiding something, though.
Annoyed that I’m thinking of the woman, I shake my head and force myself to focus on my work.
Chapter 3
Samantha
Picking up my third slice of pizza, I eat it while looking at my bank accounts. With all the overtime I’ll probably be working, I’ll be able to pay the credit card off in no time.
I would’ve had enough money for the fridge if I hadn’t paid the membership fee for Paradiso, a taboo club in the heart of Manhattan.
I joined the club because I want to spend time with a man in a secure environment. I’m hoping it will help me work through my issues with men.
Men. God, I’ve been unlucky when it comes to the opposite species.
With the pizza forgotten in my hand, my thoughts spiral down the dark hole Todd Grant ripped through my life. When I started dating him, I thought I’d struck gold. The neurosurgeon was charming and polite and went out of his way to make me feel special. All the female staff at the hospital envied me.
Then, everything came crashing down around me, and I was forced to flee Houston. I didn’t even sell the house I bought with the money I inherited from my grandmother. I just locked the front door and ran like the devil himself was after me.
Todd Grant.
I close my eyes, and even though it’s been a year since I ran away from my ex-boyfriend, the trauma is still fresh in my mind.
I tried going to therapy, but it didn’t help. I couldn’t bring myself to speak about what happened to me. I also haven’t told my family, because they’d lose their shit and demand I go to the police.
It was easier to run to New York under the pretense of needing a fresh start after breaking things off with Todd.
If only I could run from the memories.
Unable to move a muscle, I hear him come closer…
I dart up from the couch, letting the magazine fall to the floor. Needing to make sure I’m safe, I check all the windows and doors.
At first, I was scared Todd would follow me to New York, and even though he didn’t, I’m unable to shake the fear that he might appear at any moment.
Instead of letting the fear and memories overwhelm me, I think about work and the grumpy asshole I have for a boss.
Would it kill the man to treat his employees with respect?
Switching off the lights in the kitchen and living room, I head to my bedroom and climb into bed. I was beyond exhausted when I got home, but now that it’s time to sleep, I’m wide awake.
I can’t believe the asshole said I’m moody. Hah.
Turning onto my left side, I punch my pillow and let out a sigh.
I’m going to work hard and show him what I’m capable of. I’ll be the best PA the man has ever seen.
I’ve set my alarm for five so I can be at the office at seven. Even though Mr. Vitale pissed me off, I’m taking the man’s advice and have already packed a pair of comfy ballet flats to wear while I’m at my desk. I’ve also packed snacks, so I’ll have something to nibble on whenever I have to skip lunch or dinner.
Unable to fall asleep, I grab my phone and unlock the screen. I Google the printer at the office and read up on troubleshooting the most common errors, which works like a charm because with every sentence I read, my eyelids grow heavy, and before I know it, I drift off to sleep.
I rearranged the folders on my computer so they’re easy for me to find, and I’ve mastered the printer. With the ballet flats on my feet, I’m preparing templates of the contracts and documents Mr. Vitale often uses.
I’m wearing a pantsuit and have my hair pinned up so it’s out of my face.
Today, I’m ready for Mr. Vitale.
My phone rings, and seeing it’s Charlotte from reception, I quickly press the button to answer. “Is he here?”
“Yes. He’s by the elevators,” she whispers as if we’re sharing state secrets.
I asked Charlotte to give me a heads-up in the mornings so I can get Mr. Vitale’s coffee ready.
“Thank you!” I end the call and quickly change the flats for my high heels. Wearing the wireless Bluetooth earpiece I installed this morning, I get up from behind my desk and rush to the kitchenette.
I pour Mr. Vitale a cup of coffee and place two shortbread cookies on the saucer. Carrying the tray to his office, I set it down on the side of his desk and quickly dart to the door. Just as I step out of his office Mr. Vitale comes stalking down the hallway.