Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
I give him a pained smile. “Guess we’re both in the same boat, huh?”
He sighs and leans back in his chair, though there’s a gleam of appreciation in his eyes.
He knows how to be fair when it comes to this shit, I’ll give him that much.
Accountability is always serious business in this company.
That’s the Rory way, and we all play our part.
“Now that you’ve put your attitude away, let’s talk like adults,” he says.
I spend the rest of the week walled off in my office, only dropping by The Cardinal to make sure it’s running smoothly.
It always is.
I’m annoyingly satisfied to see just how well Salem takes to this management role like a duck to water. It’s even more undeniable now that we have real guests booking stays and bringing in revenue.
Throwing up distance doesn’t evict her from my head any faster. Though I keep my cool when she’s around, I’m dreaming of the distant day when I can move the fuck on without her dragging on my mind.
Especially without the memory of everything we did years ago, when we could share the same oxygen and not want to throw shit at each other.
For three entire days, I don’t see her.
She doesn’t intrude on my space, and when I drop into The Cardinal to see the latest progress, she’s conveniently busy.
If she doesn’t want my intrusion, fine. I’m happy to beat it back to Lee’s Summit and work in my own office again.
My stomach churns at the horrid thought that I might be more bothered by that than her.
And I’m just thinking maybe we’ll get through this mentorship sham without having to spend a ton of real time together when there’s a knock on my door.
“Mr. Rory?” Salem pokes her head through.
The neat bun she’s been sporting most mornings hangs loose now, sending dark curls dancing around her face. “I’m sorry to disturb you, if this is a bad time—”
“Come in.”
Out of habit, I glance at the clock. It’s past seven p.m. already.
What’s she doing here so late?
Normal folks with lives and families are home and fed by now. I’m stunned she isn’t with her son.
Then I see the little boy standing behind her with an evil gleam in his eyes like I’m the prick who’s keeping them from dinner.
“Miss Hopper. Hopper Junior.” I stand, hoping my disappointment doesn’t show in my face. “What brings you by so late?”
“I just wanted to grab some marketing books Dexter recommended. I’m trying to get better at copywriting,” she says. “He said you had them in here, like your own shared library. I guess I was surprised.”
Yeah, that’s what I get for having an office with custom shelves since my cheap-ass brothers skimped on furniture when we set up the place.
And what the hell? When did she meet my other lame brother? I thought I was the mentor?
Not that I’ve been doing much mentoring.
“I have a lot of books. I do know how to read,” I grumble, wondering why I didn’t notice the winter draft seeping in through the walls until now. “Have a look and take whatever you want.”
“Thanks!”
She darts past me, looking as tired as I’d expect after a full workweek with a kid who’s—a fucking handful, that’s for sure.
Probably like a handful of angry scorpions.
I lean against the desk and watch her. My eyes follow her as she scans the shelves, her little fingers running over the spines of the books as she takes in the titles.
Watch her hands, you idiot. Eyes off her ass.
Easier said than done.
Then little Arlo runs up and kicks me in the shin.
Not hard—he’s a kid, thankfully—but it’s jolting enough to shock me out of my stupor.
“Don’t look at my mom like that!” he shouts.
“Like what?” I ask before I can help myself. Bad question.
“Like you wanna eat her. Like a shark!” He tries to kick me again, but Salem runs over and starts dragging him backward, her hair flying as she grabs him.
“Arlo! That’s no way to behave. I know you’ve been reading your Animal World books,” she tells him in a whisper, “but you can’t go around calling people animals, all right? And you definitely can’t kick people. Do it again, and you’re grounded. Remember what Mr. Lee said in karate? Self-defense only.”
She signed this little punk up for martial arts? What the hell?
He sticks his bottom lip out and glowers at me again.
Right back at you, munchkin.
Shit, if he carries on like this in life, he may need all the self-defense lessons he can get. And where is the boy’s father, anyway?
I hope he’s not ghosting him, making the kid act out.
Nothing screams bigger chickenshit coward than a man who abandons his own son and lets him turn into a brat with a chip on his shoulder bigger than a redwood.
“I am so, so sorry, Mr. Rory. Arlo, he’s still working on his discipline with practicing his karate moves. Not his strongest point,” Salem says, straightening her back and looking at me. No, not quite at me—her gaze lands on the wall just past me, like she can’t bear to look me in the face. “He’s been taking lessons for a while. I guess he got a little overexcited. When we get home, we’re going to work on talking about our feelings, rather than taking them out on strangers.”