Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
They all looked back down and got to work.
My father didn’t suspect anyone was stealing, but it was best to give them a reason not to try.
At the end of the day, I returned to my father’s estate.
It was about to rain, the gray clouds overhead heavy with condensation. The sound of thunder erupted in the distance just as I stepped inside, surrounded by the warmth of his home. I shed my jacket and left it on the coatrack then moved farther inside his mansion, a place far too big for a terminal bachelor.
I hoped to have a place like this someday.
Ever since I’d assumed more responsibility, I was able to leave my old apartment and get a much nicer place. It was three times the size of my old place, had an underground parking garage for my car, and had a chef’s kitchen that had become my playground. Whenever I was home from work, I spent my time cooking, trying new recipes and bringing leftovers to the office for lunch.
I stepped into his office and found him behind his big mahogany desk. “It’s all accounted for. No one’s skimming off the top.”
“Good.” He finished reading the email on his laptop before he shut it. “I suspected as much.”
“They look scared. I don’t think we need to worry about them.”
His hands came together on the table. “I like it when people are scared.” He gave me a smile, his warmth a contradiction to his cold statement. “You have the paperwork?”
“I just sent it to your email before I walked in.”
“Great,” he said. “How are you?”
“Fine. You?”
He got comfortable in the leather chair. “I’m really asking, sweetheart.”
“Oh.” It was such a meaningless exchange of words that I never took the question seriously. “Good,” I said. “I’ve been cooking a lot. I really love my new kitchen. My other place was so small and cramped.”
“Invite me over for dinner sometime. I’d love to eat your cooking.”
“Sounds like fun,” I said. “I’ll let you know.”
He gave me a smile. “Have you been seeing anyone?”
I gave a slight shake of my head. “Not really. Nothing serious, at least.” It was hard to date other men after Axel. Not because he broke my heart and destroyed my ability to trust, but because my standards were much higher now, and it was impossible to find a suitable replacement. I didn’t want to settle for a man who made me come once in a while. Now, I wanted a man who could do it every time, who was serious but not serious about himself. But even if I did find that man, I’d just assume it would end with his infidelity—because a man like that was just too good to be true.
My father didn’t ask more questions on the topic. “I have a meeting tomorrow night with a new distributor. I’d like you to come with me. Your opinion means a great deal to me.”
“A new distributor?” The last time I’d seen Axel was in that restaurant. My text never got a reply. I had no idea if he even knew I’d spotted him because he didn’t care enough to contact me again. Maybe my father had said something, but he’d never told me about it. But I knew Axel no longer came to the estate, and our paths never crossed because he was prohibited from any space I might occupy. When my father didn’t invite me to social events, I knew it was because Axel would be there. Maybe he wanted to spare me the pain. Or maybe he just didn’t want that asshole to breathe the same air as me.
“Yes, I think I’ve found a suitable replacement.”
Dread formed in my heart—along with a dose of guilt. “Based on the numbers I see, we don’t need a replacement.” Axel continued to do his job and had even expanded our business to territories that had once been off-limits.
My father stared me down. “I disagree.”
“If this is because of me…it’s completely unnecessary.”
My father’s expression didn’t change much, but his anger was palpable.
“I can be in the same room with him. It was a long time ago, and I’m over it. I have no doubt we can be professional toward each other, so this separation is also unnecessary.” When I’d spotted him with Cassandra, I’d gone home and cried…and cried. I’d worked from home for a week because I couldn’t get myself out of bed. My father gave me space and didn’t ask any questions about my absence, probably knowing exactly why I needed to stay home. For a solid month, I was dead inside.
And I guess I was still a little dead, just in a different way.
My father continued his stare. “I don’t like him.”
“He does his job and he does it well, so that’s irrelevant.”
“Then let me rephrase that. I hate that motherfucker.” My father never cursed in my presence, rarely showed his rage, but he opened the lid and released the steam. “I’ve wanted him gone for a long time, and now I can finally rid myself of that trash.”