Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“Please have a seat.”
He angles his hand back to the chair I’m holding on to for dear life. I’m only half standing, my jaw fully hanging open. My eyes dart to his left hand, but the damn thing is stuffed into the pocket of his slacks, and I don’t miss the little smirk on his face. He noticed me looking.
I narrow my eyes, seconds away from blowing this for a second damn time. This man has the ability to piss me off in seconds, and I hate that power he has over me.
I take a deep breath as I sit back in the chair. One deep inhalation. One slow exhalation.
But it isn’t enough, so I do it again.
And again.
And then for a third time.
When I open my eyes, I find him watching me, his head tilted a little to the side, his eyes watching me the way a scientist would watch a caged animal, trying to decide if it is going to lunge or settle.
Both hands are on his desk, but I refuse to look.
“May we get started?” He moves his hand, the left one purposely drawing attention as he places it on top of the folder in the center of his desk.
He wants me to look, but I studiously refuse.
The folder opens.
“I have a copy here for you.”
He offers me a copy—with his left hand. Yep, there’s the ring.
I take it—and another quick glance around his office. There isn’t a single picture of his wife or children. There are no pictures colored from a child’s wild imagination. There aren’t accolades or certificates. No pictures from youth league teams. Nothing. Not a single hint that this man is a father. That there are people at home that he’s supposed to love. It makes him all the more despicable.
“As you can see, Redmond Enterprises has been fully removed from the contract. The itinerary has remained the same. Blackbridge is responsible for returning you back to home base of St. Louis every Friday and the work week will begin again Monday morning. Blackbridge is not responsible for travel expenses accrued over the weekend but will pay for hotel expenses if you prefer to stay in the city rather than going home. Ms. Redmond are you paying attention?”
I look up at him, blinking. “Excuse me?”
“You look lost. Are you paying attention?”
I clear my throat. “Please continue.”
This time, I manage to look down at the contract instead of watching him while he talks. His wife got the short end of the stick where fidelity was concerned, but the woman won the genetic lottery with her kids. The man is smoking hot.
“Page two, Ms. Redmond,” Mr. Ward says, a hint of amusement in his voice.
I flip the page on my copy of the contract, and if he’s looking at me, I know he can see the tips of my ears turning red.
The bastard.
“As I was saying, you’re more than welcome to stay in St. Louis on the weekends if you don’t want to return home, and Blackbridge will cover your hotel costs. Strategy dinners each evening while traveling are required, and—”
“Through Zoom?”
“I’m sorry?”
We look at each other.
“The meetings.” I point down at the line in the contract. “Will those be conducted by video?”
I like to eat, and I don’t feel exactly comfortable stuffing my face while chatting with my client on video.
“They will be in person.”
I tilt my head, unable to hide my confusion.
“You’ll have a travel companion.”
My shoulders slump because I know my day just got worse.
“I’ll be traveling with you.”
Make that terrible.
“Like hell.”
“It’s the only way we can do this.”
“I’m capable of doing this alone.”
“Perfect. Let’s flip to page five.”
I do as he asks, looking at the list of requirements—all the things I have in my portfolio that have the Redmond Enterprises letterhead on them. Insurance, tax identification information, and half a dozen other things I don’t have. Things that will take me weeks if not months to procure.
He picks up the receiver of his phone. “I can have Pam make copies for you.”
I vowed to be professional today no matter the outcome, but that doesn’t stop me from flopping back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest like a teen that just got into trouble at school.
Gaige steeples his hands in front of his face, resting his fingers against his mouth. I can’t tell if he’s trying to hide a smile, but the look in his eyes says your call.
It’s a challenge. He’s daring me to run, and I have no idea why he’d even want to travel with me. His words to me before he left the hotel room that night were literally thanks for the great lay. Then he walked out—with his fucking wedding band on.
That goddamn thing is staring at me right now.
Surely, he doesn’t think it’s going to fucking happen again. The man is a psycho if that’s the case.