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)
Complicated.
So fucking complicated.
Loch checks his phone once more. “Let’s go eat.”
“I’m ready, but Noah . . .” Harbor pulls me in to pat me on the back. “Congrats on the new job. We’re proud of you.”
Sappy fuckers.
“As an attorney, let me give you a little advice, though.” Loch slips on the jacket to his suit and grins. “Keep your sex life out of the office. Don’t become a liability to the company.”
Getting him wound up is one of my favorite pastimes, and I still have the magic. “What exactly constitutes a liability?”
They both shoot me a look, but Harbor says, “Some things never change.”
6
Olivia
“That’s a lot of water.”
I don’t have to see Chip to feel nauseous. My body cringes spontaneously upon hearing his voice. It’s so tempting to ignore my ex-boyfriend—the cheater of all cheats, womanizing, commitment-phobic, condescending misogynist—but since he’s also the reigning heir to the Lowe part of Bancroft & Lowe, I usually try my best to be the bigger person. I can tell it’s going to be a struggle today.
“Got the email you were back. Thanks for the warning.” I stand from where I was filling my large cup at the water cooler and look over my shoulder.
Chip’s eyes are glued to my backside, ogling my ass. “It’s fuller.” Gloves are off.
I spin to hide said ass from his disgusting gaze. “You’re such an asshole.”
His hands fly up in front of him like he’s innocent. “Just noting your ass is bigger. I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
He knows just how to get a reaction from me. I grip my stainless cup tighter, my anger convincing me I might crush it. Walk away, Liv. Walk . . . away.
Heading for the door, I decide it’s best not to say another word to him. Since our breakup two years ago, our interactions are usually kept to a minimum, and I’ve already broken my limit. Our blowout before I left that year had the rest of the office caught in the crossfire. I never want to lower myself to his level again. “It’s mind-boggling how you never change. You still act like an entitled man-child.”
“Why would I when I get everything I want?”
“I guess what I was really wondering is how you get away with it. I get that you have your daddy living vicariously through your conquests, enjoying the stories, and encouraging the philandering. I mean, we all know like father, like son. But I don’t understand why any woman would ever put up with your shit.”
“That’s something you should ask yourself.”
“I did. That’s why I’m no longer subjected to it.” I start walking, but the irritation he’s caused makes me itchy for a comeback. Although I try to be the bigger person, I don’t always succeed. I turn back on my favorite patent black heels, the ones that make me feel strong and, honestly, powerful by the height and stance they provide. “Talk about me, or any body part of mine again, and I’ll be filing a report with HR for harassment.”
“You wish I was still harassing you.”
Stupid me. I forgot he always must get the last word in. If I stay, we’ll keep going in circles, and since that’s the definition of insanity, I leave.
Colliding into a wall of muscle, fine Italian wool, and silk, I bounce back, wobbling on my heels, dropping my cup, and losing my balance.
I’m caught so fast that my neck jerks back. “Gotcha.” Pulled forward, I’m set right on my feet again. Coming face-to-face with Noah at this early hour of the day is not something I was prepared for. Is my lipstick still fresh, my blouse still wrinkle-free, and my hair still styled how I like it?
Oh my God . . .
I scream inside.
Why do I care? I hate myself for being so easily baited by his stupidly handsome good looks. I’m usually better than this. Chip has thrown me off this morning.
I need to cure myself from ever making the same mistake I did with Noah in the Hamptons from happening again.
He says, “You seem to be making a habit of falling for me.”
That will do it! I’m cured.
“Men,” I snap, rolling my eyes. I bend over to pick up my cup, but we bonk heads. “Ow!” Rubbing my head, I look straight into the warmth of his brown eyes with green centers and a smile so genuine that I forget we’re enemies for the briefest moment in time.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Fine,” I whisper, redirecting my gaze to the cup in his hands. I stand when he does, at a loss for what to say or even how to react. I finally look up at him again. “Are you okay?”
He chuckles. “Yes, I’m fine.” His breath is heavy as if he’s struggling like I am to know what to do or say next.