Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Um, excuse me?” Christopher says in shock, and I swear I can hear him stop moving.
“Yeah,” I huff, kicking off my shoes, “you heard me.”
“What the fuck?” I can’t help but shake my head.
“Yeah, that is what I said also,” I admit to him.
“What the hell?” He continues being in shock.
“Yeah, I said that also.” I peel off my socks and toss them into the laundry basket in the corner of my walk-in closet, adding my track pants to it.
“Jesus, how was it?”
“What the hell does that mean?” I ask.
“I mean, like what did you say? What did she say?” He is asking all the questions I would ask if the roles were reversed.
“I didn’t say anything and neither did she,” I tell him. “She pretended she didn’t know me.”
“Oh, burn,” he says, laughing and I roll my eyes.
“It wasn’t a burn.” My head screams out that it was, in fact, a burn. “It was.”
“Did you tell Helena who she was?” he asks me, and I choke.
“Are you out of your mind? We both pretended that we didn’t know each other. What did you want me to do? Get in the car and be like, ‘hey, you know that hot girl we just met, we dated for two years before I—’” I stop talking when I think about it when I hear his question.
“Is she still hot?” he asks, and I groan.
“Out of everything I just told you, that is the only thing you caught?” I say between clenched teeth. Then I want to kick myself for even bringing up that she was hot in the first place.
He laughs. “Well, why would you notice she was hot if you were with Helena?” he asks. I open my mouth and then close it before opening it again, but nothing comes out. “What are you going to do?”
“What do you mean, what am I going to do?” I ask.
“Are you going to call her?” he asks me, and I just look down at the phone.
“Who?”
“Sofia?” He says her name.
“Absolutely not. Why the hell would I call her?” It’s two years too late for that, you asshole, my head screams to me.
“What are you going to do?” he asks. “Are you going to use her for your wedding?”
“Are you out of your mind?” I screech. “I’m never talking to her again.”
sofia
I put the car in park before pressing the engine button. Unbuckling my seat belt before I reach for the door handle, I open my door and kick it all the way open with my foot. I lean over, grabbing the carry-out tray holding the four cups of coffee I just picked up. I then grab my purse and my carry-on bag that holds my laptop.
I step out, closing the door with my hip before I make my way up the steps. The clicks of my heels fill the silent morning. The sun is already high in the sky, but luckily there is a little breeze in the air. My hair blows back as well as the white capri pants I’m wearing. The hair on my bare arms also starts to stand because of it. I even feel it go through the front of my crisscross satin shirt. I reach for the handle of the front door before walking inside. “You just made that look so effortless.” I look over and see Presley walking out of the kitchen with a glass of water in her hand.
I chuckle at her. “Happy Friday,” I greet, holding up the cups of coffee as I walk toward her.
“Where are we having our meeting?” I ask and she just points at the hallway and toward the conference room.
“Perfect.” I walk back with the tray in my hand. Every single Friday we have a meeting on what we are working on. What we did this week. What we have coming up and, most importantly, if we have any issues that we need help with.
I place the coffee down on the round table before I turn and walk to my office. I take the sunglasses off as soon as I put my bags down. I grab my laptop from the bag and then the folder of notes I have. “Good morning,” I hear Shelby say from the hallway as she walks toward her office followed by Clarabella, who also grumbles a good morning.
I walk out of my office and take myself toward the conference room where the three of them are. “I have to ask you,” Clarabella starts, sitting in one of the chairs, then leaning over to grab one of the coffees from the tray. “How many times a week do you work out?” I look at her confused. “God, she doesn’t even have to work out to have that body.” She puts her head back and takes a sip of the coffee.