Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
I can’t stand around here any longer, not even to make polite small talk. As much as it would be nice to have a water cooler conversation with her, it’s best if I keep my distance from everyone and focus on my job instead. “Work is calling. Have a good day.”
I can ignore the gossip, but the wrench that’s been thrown not only into my working day but also my life can’t be ignored. I will protect the things that matter most at all costs. Maxwell is worth it. I was hoping to get more insight into my month and, if I’m lucky, Noah. Guess I’ll have to do the dirty work myself and start digging.
Settling in at my desk, I call Cassandra to check in. “Hello,” she answers.
“Hi, how are you? How’s Maxwell? All okay?”
“We’re great. I’m about to take him to his baby gym class, then I was thinking about a picnic in the park.”
Although it shouldn’t, my heart hurts. She’s living the life I can only dream of experiencing—spending the day with my baby. That’s not a possibility, though. I need to provide for him and that means working.
“That sounds really nice. Thank you, Cassandra.”
“Gosh, it almost feels criminal being paid for this job. Maxwell’s the best baby. We have such a great time together.”
I grin with pride and love for him. “He is. Well, you know the drill. If you need anything, call or text.”
“I will. Hope your day goes well,” she says just before hanging up.
I stare at the screensaver that pops up on the screen when we disconnect. It’s Maxwell and me on my birthday. Just the two of us and a small cake to share. “Enough distractions.” I smile, then angle toward my monitor to get to work.
Since I already know I’ll have an email from Chip because, apparently, he’s back in New York, I check to see if I’m right. I can’t believe he’s been back, what? A night? And he’s having breakfast with the company owners and Noah. Chip loves a surprise when it benefits him, like never telling us whether he’ll show up to work.
And people have a problem with me? I’m here working my ass off while he’s off gallivanting across the Baja Peninsula, it appears from his expenses. I don’t know how he always manages to convince his dad and mine that not only should they pay for his extravagant lifestyle but that, somehow, he’s an asset they need to keep on the payroll.
And people have the nerve to say my role in accounts and finances is owed to nepotism. Go figure.
Just thinking about my ex and the other three together doesn’t sit well, but when I specifically think of Chip and Noah possibly becoming friends, my stomach churns. What if . . . oh God, no. Stop. Don’t even think about them chumming up and becoming buddies or comparing notes.
Focus on work, Liv.
The moment Jennifer said Chip was back, I knew I’d have an email. I click open, and yep, there it is. So predictable. I’ll have to brace my eyes because I know I’ll do extensive eye-rolling over the next two hours. He tries to get the company to pay for every expense—personal or work—so I already know it will take me time to work through exactly what we’ll reimburse and what we won’t.
Two hours are lost weeding through this unhinged email of requests. It’s not just the nerve of some of the expenses he’s trying to get paid back for. It’s the winky face and the line in the email that says, “Take care of this, muffin,” that makes my blood boil.
By two in the afternoon, I have a major headache from staring at the screen all day, picking apart the numbers of the marketing team and how much they’re spending. I shoot my dad an email short and to the point, which is how he likes it:
When can you meet to go over the marketing expenses and budgets for the next quarter?
Olivia
I never heard from him, but laughter filled the corridor at one point in the day, penetrating my door for a few hours. The merry band of best buddies had returned, but Noah’s voice had traveled as if to torture me. There wasn’t a chance in hell I would let him get to me, so I hunkered deeper into the numbers until Chip’s entire team had an outlook and budget in place.
Three o’clock rolls around before I realize that I’ve lost track of time and haven’t eaten today. I wouldn't have remembered at all if it weren’t for my growling stomach.
I scan the two kitchens on opposing sides of the floor before deciding that Cheetos and a soda might not be the best choice to tide me over until dinner. But if I hurry downstairs, I can order a salad or maybe get soup from the deli next door before it closes.