Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
And then I read the text and want to vomit a lot.
Hey, babe. Heard you’re going to be at the big party tonight. Maybe we can catch up.
Nick. Nick Stafford, the man who wrecked my life, is going to be at the party tonight.
Yeah, this could get real bad.
Chapter Two
The horrifying news that my ex is attending CeCe’s party is still weighing heavily on my brain pan as I stride down the hall that I’ve been assured will lead me to Heath Marino’s apartment. The building is a bit worn down, but compared to the one I live in it’s a palace.
I’d been planning on wearing my very best dress to that party, and now I’m unsure. It’s Chanel, and I bought it for the interview with Code: The Magazine that featured me as one of the thirty best minds under thirty. It’s black and chic, and Nick has seen it about five hundred times. He calls it my armor.
If he sees me in that, it will let him know I’m feeling vulnerable, and I can’t have that. I’m walking into a den of very well-dressed predators, and I’m going to be all alone. Even if Nick doesn’t show up with a date, he’ll be surrounded by the men I like to call the Bro Coders.
It’s like the everyday, normal dumbass bro, complete with sports references and an actual “code” they claim to live by, but there’s also physical coding, and let me tell you they think they are the smartest people in any room. These are the guys who fail up. I mean it. Nick devastated Jensen Medical Solutions to the point that we had to sell to simply pay off our creditors, but he’s already been hired as CFO of an even bigger company.
While I scrape together quarters to pay for those tacos.
I’m pissed that I can’t enjoy the day with my two best friends and the feeling of having a delightfully full belly, but no. Now I’m nauseous and wondering if I’m going to have a food baby tonight.
Maybe I should hire an escort. Like a really hot guy who smiles a lot and looks like he likes me. I could consider him an accessory.
I am contemplating how one goes about employing an escort when I find the apartment marked 9B and knock.
To top it all off, Heath Marino wants to meet in the middle of the afternoon, and I couldn’t think of a good excuse to push this to next week, so here I am. I’m off my game because I am the queen of good excuses. I can put a guy off for years. Usually until he goes away. I call it ghosting via procrastination.
The door opens and a thin black man with glasses stands there, frowning. “Wow. That is the angriest face I’ve seen in a while. There is no manager here, lady.”
Totally off my game because I usually don’t scare people away until I actually want to. “Sorry. Shitty day. I’m looking for Heath.”
Now the guy’s eyes widen. He’s wearing a Cornell T-shirt and sweatpants. “Holy shit. You’re her. I didn’t… You’re not dressed the way you normally are.”
So he’s a techie. When Heath hadn’t given any indication he knew who I was, I thought I’d maybe caught a break. “This is actually more normal than the power suits and stuff. I only dress up when I have to.”
It’s much more comfortable to write code in my pajamas, hair piled high on my head and fuzzy slippers on my feet. I would have worn that every day at the office except I’d been taught I have to look like the boss. Always.
I don’t right now. I look like every other woman walking the streets of New York wondering where it all went wrong. Jeans. T-shirt. Sneakers. I hope I didn’t get egg yolk on any of those three items, but it wouldn’t surprise me. I hadn’t gone home to change so I could help Heath Marino with whatever his damn app needed.
I’m pretty sure the dude in front of me must be his roommate. He’s pretty cute in a nerdy way. I peg his age as mid to late twenties and would bet he’s not currently a student at Cornell. It’s probably his alma mater.
He opens the door wider, and I’m treated to the sight of a short hallway that leads into the living room, which is covered in computers and monitors.
“I’m Darnell. Darnell Green. Heath and I have been roommates since we met in college. Please come in,” Darnell offers and turns his head toward the back of the apartment. “Heath, she’s here.”
I step inside, and it’s obvious these two do not entertain. The living room is fairly big for a city apartment, but instead of seating, it’s got four desks, each with a computer setup and several monitors.