Mr. Big Shot Read Online R.S. Grey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
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I nod, glad I already steeled myself for this conversation. “So is this some big warning to stay away from you? Because I’m no fool. I’m not head over heels in love with you, Hudson. I’m married to my work too. I don’t want any distractions.”

“So we understand each other.”

Do we?

The door to his office opens while we’re still looking at each other and Lucy walks in without knocking. She’s holding a stack of papers for Hudson to sign and she’s talking a mile a minute.

She doesn’t even take note of how we’re standing, too close for coworkers, though at least we aren’t touching. I’m holding the painting, and a quick assessment of Hudson’s desk proves there’s no damning evidence, but it’s not in its usual orderly state either. His computer monitor is about to tip off the edge. Another inch and it’ll be lying on the floor, a crack splintering the screen right down the middle.

There’s no conversation to be had now that we have an audience. I have to get to work and Hudson is already late for a conference call, and that’s the way it goes in big law.

I’m an attorney first and a person second and I don’t feel sorry for myself. I relish it. I love my work and I’m good at it and I’m going to make a name for myself in this company despite everything.

I don’t want Hudson. He was a means to an end for me, someone to help me get my mojo back after Jasper the Lame Ghost. And now I have it.

So there.

We can move on.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Scarlett

I’ve put the Kendra issue almost completely to bed. She sucks and she always will suck. I know it in my heart of hearts, and yet I can’t seem to stop holding out hope that she’ll wake up one day having undergone a full-on personality transplant overnight. It’s why I still put in the effort to be cordial even though I know it’s futile.

Every morning, I walk into our office with the understanding that I can project all the sunshine and rainbows I want but that doesn’t mean it’ll change anything. I’ve come to terms with this purgatory I’ve found myself in with her, which is why I’m beyond shocked when I enter our shared office after my meeting with Hudson to find her standing behind her desk, loading up a cardboard box with her personal belongings.

She’s not dressed in work attire. She’s in a t-shirt and sweatpants. When she sees me, she just nods in greeting. But then she tacks on a mild, “Well you win.”

I drop my work bag on my desk. “I win what?”

Has this been a game the whole time? If so, it’s been the most awful one I’ve ever played.

“I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I hate working here. I thought it would get better. I’ve tried, but it’s just not worth it. Not for all the money in the world.”

I didn’t realize she was struggling. I mean now that she mentions it, I can think back on a few instances where it seemed like Bethany or Sophie was frustrated with her about something, but I never thought it had anything to do with Kendra herself, more so just the intense workload in general.

“Where are you going?”

I figure she’ll name another big law firm, maybe Pierce Hughes in New York City or LMD in Boston.

Instead, she says, “Bali.”

Her answer is so out of left field, and I try to place the word within the confines of law. Is Bali a firm in LA or…

“Bali?!” I erupt, finally understanding.

She’s unfazed by my wide-eyed reaction. “Yeah. I’ve always wanted to live there, and it’s kind of now or never. I’m going to pursue my jewelry line.”

Jewelry line?

“Wow…that’s—”

She can tell I don’t know what to say. She shrugs. “Yeah, whatever. My parents are outraged, but I don’t care. And hey, at least you’ll get the whole office to yourself now.”

She seems lighter now that she knows the end is near, like her hate for me was intrinsically tied to her struggle with this job. That might well have been the case. Every time she was particularly grumpy or excessively rude, she might have just been struggling to stay on top of her work. The stress might have been eating away at her.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

And the sentiment is genuine, oddly enough. I didn’t like Kendra, but I also didn’t put much effort into hating her. I thought we might have a reckoning of sorts one day, a final battle royale that would end in us either murdering or befriending each other.

Her just up and leaving, for Bali no less, was never on my bingo card.

“Eh, whatever.” She picks up a stapler, studies it for a second, then shoves it in the cardboard box. “What’s a crap ton of student debt compared to happiness, right?”



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