Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
She studied her hands. “What if we both just leave? We could walk away and start our own magazine or something. You wouldn’t have to worry about your dad anymore.”
“Not possible,” I said.
“Why?”
I clenched my teeth, feeling annoyed. “Because I’ve invested too much in this to walk away. And I’m not going to run from my problems. I’ll face them head on.”
Darcy looked like she wanted to flick me on the nose. “That’s dumb macho bullshit. It’s not running. And even if it was, wouldn’t you run if a train was barreling down on you? Or would you puff out your chest and let it vaporize you?”
“My dad isn’t a train. He’s just an old man with a fragile ego. I’m sure there’s a way to get him out of our hair without burning everything down. I just need some time to figure it out.”
She looked like she wanted to argue more, but then she looked up in thought. “What if we made some really positive strides for the magazine? Like if I publish the interview on you and it’s popular? Or we revisit the idea of my weekly column? Maybe that could help move magazines off the shelf and give him second thoughts about interfering.”
“First of all, nobody wants to read an interview about me. Second, it won’t work. The vision I have for the magazine is information and entertainment–hand in hand. Your piece is all information and no entertainment.”
The look on Darcy’s face told me I’d spoken too harshly. I wanted to backtrack what I said, but I reached for her instead. “Darcy…”
“No,” she said, backing away. “It’s fine. I’m just a convenient place to put your dick when the need arises, but I should learn my place and keep my mouth shut, right? Obviously, I couldn’t ever have a good idea.”
“That’s not what I said.” She was pissing me off. Sure, I’d been a little bit of an ass, but didn’t she realize how much I was already putting on the line by being with her? My stress levels had been at an all-time high ever since Monday, and I simply didn’t have the patience to be tactful. “And if you realized how much I’ve already put on the line to keep my dad from firing you, you’d be on your knees thanking me instead of complaining.” Too far. I knew it as soon as I said it, but the momentum of stupidity was an amazing thing, and it had me by the throat.
I expected tears, maybe. Instead, Darcy stood straighter and laughed through her nose. “So this is the real you, huh? I thought maybe you were actually a good guy. But this is it, isn’t it? You feel like you’ve been doing me a favor all this time? Well, good news. I’m done accepting your favors. So you can take them and fuck off.”
She turned and left. I was still fuming, so I let her go. I was pissed at her, at myself, and at my dad. It was all a perfect storm of shit and I just wanted to break something. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to be reasonable or worry about hurt feelings.
“Fuck!” I shouted a few moments later. I slammed my fist down on the table, making the hotel phone give an alarmed little jump. I planted my palms and hung my head.
Maybe this was good. If things were done between me and Darcy, I could go back to focusing on work. That was what I’d wanted all along, right?
The uneasy swirling feeling in my stomach said otherwise, but I gritted my teeth and pretended not to notice it.
This was good. This was what I wanted.
Maybe if I repeated the thoughts enough times, they’d start to feel more true.
32
DARCY
I headed down to the hotel lobby in the early hours of the morning. I couldn’t sleep, anyway. My brain was buzzing with energy and I still felt like I was ready to get in a fist fight at a moment’s notice. Hell, I would’ve punched a pigeon if it looked at me wrong right about then.
But I settled for making myself a cup of coffee, even though they didn’t have the yellow packets of sugar I liked. Two women were working the desk, but it looked like they were more worried about whatever was on their phones than anything else.
I shuffled to a sofa by the window with my coffee. Fittingly, it was raining. The sound was usually comforting to me, like little tapping fingers on the glass. I stared out through the drops of water at the blurry landscape outside. The night temporarily went white and I saw the outline of trees a moment before I heard the boom of lightning.
I sighed. Was it too much to ask for one of those bolts to fire right up Dominic’s ass? I wasn’t a praying woman, but I thought that would be a good reason to start. Dear God, could you please smite Dominic Lockwood? But if you do, I’d just really like to know you got him through his asshole, because anything else would feel too dignified.