Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
“Aw… Need a tissue?” Chad scoffs. “Topher was right. Dallas finally saw you for who you are. You’re an overbearing bitch who tried to sleep your way up the ladder, and look where it got you.” He slow claps. “You’re a joke now. Way to make the front of house look bad. What kind of precedent do you think this sets?”
I’ve just drawn a breath to rip him a new one when Dallas’s deep voice comes from the doorway.
“You are out of line, Chad. Wilhelmina’s relationship status is none of your business, and running your mouth the way you are makes you a douchebag. If you have a problem, you should take it up with management.” Dallas positions himself between us. “Or me, since I’m standing right here. But you probably don’t want to do that, seeing as I’m likely to report you for harassment. Which is exactly what this is, if you were unaware.”
“I was just—”
Dallas’s fingers skim the back of my hand. “You were just what, Chad? You think you have a right to talk to your colleagues—your superiors—like this? To treat them like garbage because you don’t approve of what’s going on in their personal life? As I’ve already stated, that is none of your fucking business.” Dallas steps to the side and wraps a protective arm around my shoulder. “Let’s go, Wills.”
I allow him to pull me close and lead me out of the room.
“Why did you defend me?” My voice cracks. The boy who was once my dragon just became my dragon slayer. I can’t pretend their words don’t hurt anymore—that I’m unaffected by other people’s cruelty.
“No one talks to you like that. Especially not a douchebag asshole named Chad.” He continues down the hall and stops at Hammer’s office. “Wills is done for the day. She’ll be back tomorrow,” he announces.
I keep dashing tears away, but they won’t stop falling.
“Is everything okay?” Hammer asks.
“She’ll be okay as soon as people learn how to behave. I appreciate you handling things today,” Dallas says.
“Yeah. Of course.” Hammer nods, eyes full of questions. “Screw the assholes.” She cringes. “You know what I mean.”
“Thanks, Hammer,” I croak. “I appreciate you.” I let Dallas guide me to my office. I grab a handful of tissues and try, in vain, to stop the freaking tears.
Dallas is here, taking care of me like I’m still his. My Dallas who isn’t mine anymore.
He gathers my things, pausing to glance at the bowl of crocheted peaches sitting on my desk before he slings my purse over his shoulder. He kept adding to them and of all the things he gave me, I couldn’t bear to part with them. “Do you need anything else?” he asks. “And don’t say your laptop. It’s staying here until tomorrow.”
“Why are you doing this?” I manage to ask.
“Because I care about you.” He holds out his hand, and I lace my fingers with his.
We take the elevator to the parking garage, and he helps me into his car. I’m surrounded by his scent, and he’s sitting right next to me. But he’s not mine anymore, and I don’t know how to handle any of this. And the freaking tears won’t stop. Dallas turns to me, and the look on his face only makes me cry harder.
Why is he here? Why show me what I’ll never have with him?
I’m so in love with him. So hopelessly, terrifyingly head over heels for this man, and I’m so confused. He broke up with me, yet he’s here, taking care of me. He keeps seeing me at my worst, and still, he’s here.
“It’s okay, honey. I got you.” His thumb sweeps the hollow under my eye. More tears follow. “I’m sorry I made your life harder.” He kisses my forehead. “Now let me get you out of here.” He sits back, flips open the center console, and passes me a small packet of tissues. The ones I’m holding are already drenched.
“Thank you.” I dab at my eyes. I’ve cried so much over the past week, I could probably fill a bathtub. I hate feeling weak. As many times as Ma tells me crying isn’t weak and emotions are strength, believing her isn’t easy. Any crack in my armor has always meant vulnerability I couldn’t afford.
I expect Dallas to take me home, but he heads in the opposite direction, away from my building and toward the lakeshore. He pulls up in front of the Windsor House, a swanky hotel with my favorite spa.
“What are we doing here?”
“Giving you the break you need from the nonsense. Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.” He leaves the car running and hops out.
My phone is blowing up with messages from Shilpa. I let her know I’m with Dallas and that I’d had enough of being shit on by colleagues today.