Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
But only because I felt guilty. That’s all. I know I can be a jerk sometimes, but no one has impressed that fact upon me more than Violet. Maybe because no one brings that side of me out more than she does. She frustrates me. She makes me lose my temper. She makes me feel like a kid and makes me do stupid things. She drives me out of control. She…
I stop and let out a laugh that bounces off the tiles. What am I thinking? That Violet has control over me?
No. That’s absurd. No woman can control Asher Hawthorne.
Starting now, I’m going to act more like myself instead of reacting to Violet. I’m going to stop going out of my way to be mean to her. I’m going to stop trying to hurt her or make her leave. I’m going to stop asking, expecting things from her. I’ve grown tired of all of it anyway.
Ever since Violet arrived from Switzerland, I’ve been all about her. Trying to get her to sleep with me. Trying to annoy her. Enough.
No more plots. No more stupid arguments. No more games.
Starting tomorrow, Violet is going to see the real Asher Hawthorne.
~
“Good morning, Ms. Cleary,” I greet Violet as I put a cup of coffee on her desk before heading to my office.
She looks up at me with wide eyes. I smile.
“What’s this?” she asks as she glances at the cup of coffee.
“Cappuccino,” I answer. “With vanilla foam and a bit of cinnamon. I thought you might need it.”
Violet says nothing. I can tell from her expression that she’s trying to guess my intention. Am I genuinely being nice to her after being an ass last night? Or am I making fun of her?
“Don’t worry,” I tell her. “I didn’t put anything in it.”
I’d never do that, but I can understand why she’s reluctant to believe me after all the other things I’ve tried. It’s best to give her a few moments to make up her mind.
“Good day, Ms. Cleary.” I start to walk away from her desk. “Oh, and kindly give me a copy of the report on our estimated expenses for the next quarter this morning so I can take a look at it before the meeting with Ethan this afternoon. You can just hand it to Dylan and then I’ll have it sent back to you if there are any changes necessary.”
Again, Violet just gives me a wide-eyed look. I wonder what she’s more surprised about—the fact that I’m acting like her boss or that I said ‘kindly’.
“Is that alright, Ms. Cleary?” I ask.
“Y–yes, sir,” she answers. “I’ll have the report ready for you in an hour.”
Now that’s more like her.
“Good. I’ll be expecting it.”
I give her one last smile before heading to my office.
Chapter Eight
Violet
I frown at the ceiling as I lie in bed.
It’s weird. I should be sleeping peacefully right now because I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately and it’s finally quiet on the other side of the wall. I should even have a smile on my lips because today was a good day.
Asher got me a nice cup of coffee. He helped me with my report. He backed me up in front of his brother during the meeting and as a result I got praised by the CEO. Then after the meeting, Asher let me go home early, which allowed me to cook a nice dinner, have a longer shower and get to bed early.
In short, Asher was good to me all day. Kind. And all I can do is keep wondering why. What is he up to this time?
There must be a reason. When the girl who’s always a bitch to you sits next to you at lunch, it’s usually because she wants to copy your homework. When the quarterback who doesn’t know you exist suddenly approaches you at your locker and says he likes your hair, it’s usually because he’s bored with his current girlfriend or trying to make her jealous. When your mother stops making breakfast for you every morning and tucking you into bed every night and starts drinking every day until she just stares into space and doesn’t recognize you, it’s because your father cheated on her.
There’s always a reason. The problem is I don’t know what Asher’s is. Is he trying to kill me with kindness? Is this a new ploy to get rid of me? Or is he just trying to get me to like him so that I’ll sleep with him?
I don’t know. I wish I did. Then I’d know what to expect and how I’m supposed to respond. But I can’t read another person’s mind. It’s confusing, frustrating, maddening.
It’s impossible.
A yawn escapes my mouth. I turn on my side, hug my pillow and close my eyes.
I should stop torturing myself trying to do it, then. God knows I’ve been tortured enough these past few days. Besides, it may only be a phase. Tomorrow, Asher might go back to being the jerk I know.