Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“She wanted more. I left her with a chaste kiss and exchanged numbers. I’m pretty sure there will be only the one date, which I paid for. It’s not boding well at all in my favor.” Vanessa doesn’t know that I made it to the door before I looked over my shoulder, waiting until she disappeared in the elevator. Not so much as her giving me a final look. Her back was what she showed me, all the proof I needed to know she wasn’t thrilled with me being a gentleman.
Ezra doesn’t say anything. He’s mulling things over, his eyebrows arched, pulling his thoughts together, analyzing me and the situation to death like any good friend will do. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. Word on the street is Taylor will be looking to sell his business or merge with another. It would be wise not to fuck it up. I was going to bring it up at our next meeting once Theo and Boston are back in town. His app building skill along with our e-commerce site, it would be smart to tap into his side of things and vice versa. Of course, that’s merely from a business standpoint. The friend side of this equation is going to make you aware that not everyone is her.” Anger surges inside of me. Ezra must see that it’s taking root, too, since he readies his stance.
“I know Vanessa isn’t her. She has nothing to do with that part of my life. I’m over and done with that part, but since you want to bring the past up, it’s like you’re looking for a reason to get your ass handed to you. This is the way to do it.” I take a deep breath, attempting to center myself, not that it will work in any way, shape, or form. There was a time in my life when I wasn’t a recluse, when I was young, wild, and carefree. That all changed with her. It took years to get over what she did to me, how I was taken advantage of, how it was Ezra, Theo, and Boston who took me out one night, showed me the proof. I got rip-roaring drunk and kicked her out of my place the next morning once I was sober. That’s why I’ve put a shield around who I spend my time with. It’s the epitome of the phrase once bitten, twice shy. “We’re not bringing her up, not now, not ever again.” Ezra’s doing what he does best, poking the fucking bear.
“We’ll agree to disagree. Now, take your best shot. It’s what you’ve been after all along, texting me at an ungodly hour this morning.” That’s how we finish out our morning, hit for hit, jab for jab, landing one after another, an even match. We were both after using our fists to numb the pain, me from my past, and Ezra he’s either here for the fuck of it or is battling his own demons. One thing is for certain: he’ll tell me when he’s good and ready, not a second earlier.
EIGHT
Nessa
I sit up in my bed after a night of tossing and turning, the sheets a mess around my thighs, the comforter dropped to the floor, my body aching like it ran a marathon. Except I didn’t, would not, and will not ever subject myself to running of any kind. My body is a mess from the sheer torture of clothing, shoes, and being on display for too many hours to count. I should have known sleep wouldn’t have come to me easily; it was hopeful at best, thinking my adrenaline from the charity auction would come crashing down. It didn’t. The opposite is what happened. It probably would have if not for Parker Hudson. He was like a wrecking ball against an activist group, not caring who or what got in his way. And damn myself for feeling as much as I am after only just meeting him. It was too late last night and too early now to call Millie, which is on my list of things to do today. Once it’s a normal hour and the sun isn’t slowly creeping above the building in the distance. Forgetting to close my blackout curtains was nobody’s fault but my own. If I were working nights, I’d never forget something as simple as closing the heavy drapery. My mind wouldn’t be a jumbled mess from what the magazines and headlines call the billionaire playboy recluse. Whereas his other friends or business partners are seen coming and going, posing for the cameras, Parker is nowhere to be seen for at least the last ten years, well, except for his one and only social media sight. Still, there are hardly any posts. The bare minimum is all he has.