Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
I lift a brow. “Planning?”
“You do realize that Lily’s birthday is coming up, right?”
I gasp. “Oh, crap. I completely forgot.” My palm slaps against my forehead. “I haven’t talked to her in days. I’m the worst friend.”
I lay my head on top of my hands. Asher leans over, patting the back of my head.
“This is why you have me. To remind you of the stuff that you forget while trying to navigate corporate America.”
I chuckle. “Thank God for you, then.”
“Thank God, indeed.” He grins at me.
I laugh, my head falling back on my shoulders. It feels good to be back to normal with Asher. It’s been too long. Even before our fallout, I’ve practically tiptoed my way around him since my mom and Lily planted false ideas in my mind about his feelings for me.
It was unfair because I should’ve known better. I should’ve just talked to him.
When my eyes lift, they land on a figure over Asher’s shoulder. My heart stops for a moment before galloping.
“What’s wrong?” Asher asks.
I gulp. Charles is walking in the doors. And he isn’t alone. On his arm is an impeccably dressed woman with long, blonde hair and scarlet-red lips.
“It’s . . . well . . . it’s my boss.”
“Oh, shit. You’re allowed to be here, right?”
“Yeah, it’s my break.”
He sits back. “Hopefully, he won’t see you.”
Asher seems completely oblivious to my inner turmoil.
“Nope. He saw me. He’s coming this way.”
I want to slink into my seat and disappear. I haven’t seen him since yesterday, and based on his current company, I’d rather not.
Charles approaches, wearing a dark navy suit, similar to Asher’s, but on him, it looks tailor-made. Why does he always have to look so perfect?
“Raven,” he says, never once looking at Asher. “Aren’t you supposed to be in an interview?”
“Hello, Mr. Cavendish. Nice to see you,” I say, keeping the bite out of my voice and things ever so professional. I can tell it annoys him. “My interviews are later. It’s still my lunch break. I’m here with my friend, Asher Anderson,” I say, motioning toward Asher and forcing Charles to acknowledge his presence.
He nods at Asher as if sizing him up before the showdown in the ring. It’s ridiculous.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Cavendish. Raven has told me so much about you.”
I kick Asher under the table, and he grunts.
Charles looks my way with a raised eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“I’ve told him about the company and how much I enjoy my job.”
Please go away. Please go away.
Things couldn’t get any more awkward if I stood on the table and stripped down to my panties. The tension is high, and I’m not even sure why.
Because of what we did? Or is it about the woman he’s with, or maybe Asher?
Either way, I want this unease to end.
“Glad to hear you’re enjoying the company,” Charles practically purrs, and my face heats at his hidden innuendo. “This is Angela,” Charles says, as if he suddenly remembers the woman next to him. “She’s an advisor to my father in London. She came to see the New York office.”
Interesting. His father’s attorney and now an advisor is here, too? What is going on?
“Hi, Angela, lovely to meet you. This is Asher,” I say and smile affectionately at Asher as I do.
Something that sounds almost like a growl escapes Charles’s throat, and all eyes turn to him. He coughs, and Angela claps a hand on his back.
“Are you okay, Charles?”
I hate that she calls him by his first name. So familiar.
“Fine,” he chokes out. “We better leave you to it. Have a great day,” he says and walks off, never officially acknowledging Ash.
I watch as he finds a table not too far from us. Not close enough to hear us talk, but definitely close enough to watch us.
“That is my boss. The CEO of the company.”
“I gathered as much.” Asher chuckles. “He’s . . . intense.”
“He’s something all right,” I mutter under my breath.
He shrugs, glancing toward Charles. “He’s known to be rather private.”
“Yeah, you won’t find anything about him on the internet.”
“You stalked him online?” Asher’s mouth forms a straight, thin line.
“No. Well . . . yes. When I was interviewing for the company. I tried to find out all I could about him.”
He bobs his head. “Makes sense. He’s acting a bit strange,” Asher notes, looking over that way again.
I turn my head slightly and see that Charles is watching us. I turned back to Asher with wide eyes.
“Yeah. He’s weird. So full of himself. Anyway, let’s eat our food.”
“Good idea. I’m running out of time,” Asher says.
We spend the rest of our lunch eating, laughing, and being far too friendly with one another.
At one point, I look up from my food and find Charles standing in the archway leading into the cafeteria, staring daggers at the back of Asher’s head. His pinched features are set in a fierce scowl. The blonde from earlier is gone. My back straightens, and my shoulders roll.