Forgot to Say Goodbye Read Online S.L. Scott

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
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Maybe I’m still lingering in that stage because I’m fucking furious right now. Unfortunately, I’m a new hire standing in front of his boss. He repeats, “So you already know Olivia?”

I compose myself, straightening my jacket and turning to her. Staring right into those eyes of hers, I reply. “No, I don’t know her at all.”

“You called her Liv, so I assumed—”

Returning my attention to him, I grin my award winner. “Only from the company website. I wanted to learn everything I could about the company smart enough to hire me.”

He chuckles. “I like you already, Westcott.” With his hand on her back, he says, “This is the guy I was telling you about. Whip smart, a real coup in acquisitions for Bancroft & Lowe.”

Liv . . . Olivia clears her throat and raises her chin as soon as her hand shoots out. “It’s . . .” She steals a quick breath but then her shoulders sag on the exhale as if she’s lost the energy for this charade. Tell me about it . . . She finally continues. “I’m not sure where to start.” She glances at her father first before turning to me, and adding, “My father is happy to have you joining the company.”

Nice workaround.

And I solidly catch the drift regarding her feelings of seeing me again.

Same boat, sweetheart.

The difference is, I’m here to shine. Seeing her again won’t break my stride straight to the top. “I appreciate that, Olivia.”

I clasp her hand in mine. The electricity conjured the night we met shoots straight through me, along with memories better left out of the office. That night with her was nothing more than another one-night stand. I’d be better off if I remember that instead. I drop her hand and shove mine into my pocket.

As if forgetting that night ever existed would be that easy when I find myself staring at her, the white top she’s wearing reminiscent of the lace covering those perfect tits I couldn’t wait to unwrap. Her hair is pulled back into a sleek twist at the base of her head, but I remember how it waterfalled through my fingers. Her eyes, those hazel eyes that have haunted me for years, widen for a split second before she averts them out the large windows to the passing cloud momentarily darkening the conference room.

Out of all the companies in Manhattan, I’m hired into this one. Olivia Bancroft. What the fuck? How is this even possible?

I anchor my eyes on her father, not daring to give her the pleasure of my attention again, and clap my hands together. “Let’s get started.”

He laughs. “I like the eagerness, but I’m sure HR will have some paperwork for you to sign.” He turns to his daughter. “The sooner we can get you settled in, the sooner we can start this new chapter.”

“New chapter?” I ask, intent on proving my value to the company.

“We’ve restructured. Times are changing, and we need to change with it. Fresh blood means fresh ideas. I look forward to hearing yours.” He walks toward the door. “Olivia will show you to your office.”

“I have a call,” she says so casually that I question if I was imagining her reacting the same as me. Nothing about her demeanor now holds an ounce of care for my presence. She’s not tense or rude. She’s calm and collected as she heads for the door like her father. Just before she rounds the corner, she smirks. “I’m sure he’ll have no problem finding the door with his name on it.”

“Jennifer?” He calls into the hall. I make my way toward the exit just as he turns to me to add, “Mr. Lowe is in Chicago. You’ll meet him when he returns in a few days. Jennifer?”

Late thirties, early forties, put together with her hair in a low ponytail at the base of her head, a maroon suit and black shirt with sensible black heels, Jennifer bounces her eyes from me to him upon arrival. “Yes, Mr. Bancroft?”

“Show Mr. Westcott to HR.”

Yes, sir.”

He leaves without another word. Sympathy coats her expression when we’re left alone. “He’s a bit impatient.”

“I gathered.”

She starts to walk. “HR is up here on the left.” I follow her but stop at the corner when the space opens to killer views of the city on one side and a row of desks with a slew of assistants staring at monitors on the other. I just catch Bancroft entering his office and closing the door down the corridor from where we’re standing.

Jennifer says, “You’ve made quite the impression on him.”

“Have I?”

We cut through the large, sunlit room full of cubicles. “He doesn’t spend time with people he doesn’t see potential in, so take it as a compliment that he remained standing there, especially after the recent turnover.”



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