Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
I rubbed my forehead and thought of how I’d recoiled when I saw what she had on, the way I hadn’t even wanted to take her elbow to usher her out. Everything about the whole thing disgusted me.
“Let me guess, it’s making you feel like you’re crazy?” she said. I felt my jaw clench in response, but I nodded. “I could kinda tell. You’re defensive about all of it like you’re under attack. And I think the instinct there is to minimize the problem and try not to admit how bad it is or how much it affects you.”
“It’s why I went to your coffee shop. Because I didn’t want to go back to the Starbucks near my place. Olivia was there just before me a lot of times and I wanted to avoid her if I could. It sounds lame.”
“It sounds sensible,” she insisted. “I hate to repeat myself, but I’m right, so I’m going to underline it here. If I had a creepy ex who stalked me everywhere I went, would you tell me to toughen up and just go get my coffee where I usually went and ignore him? Like he wasn’t a threat and I just needed to quit whining?” she challenged.
“No, of course not,” I said.
“Then having a double standard about this is really sexist of you,” she said.
I wasn’t sure if she was teasing or not. I wanted to protest, to say that it was different for men, but I sat back and resisted the urge to get defensive. I’d been stressed out by it for so long that I was on edge, and I didn’t want to take it out on her.
“Noah,” she said, her voice warmer, softer, “I’m glad you told me. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. I mean, short of beating her up.” She made me smile and then I hugged her.
“Thank you, Madison,” I said, “For everything. You’re a good listener, and that’s rare.”
“I once went to a therapist who got out his phone and started doing the daily Wordle while I was talking,” she said. “True story. Good listeners, they don’t grow on trees.”
I kissed her cheek and pulled back to look at her.
“If I didn’t have a two o’clock today, I’d be asking if I could stay,” I said, searching her eyes.
“I’d be trying not to say yes. And failing,” she said with a soft smile. I kissed her lips and let that warmth wash over me, the closeness of her body, all sweet curves molding against me, and her mouth supple and open beneath mine. I worked my tongue into her mouth slowly, exactly the way I’d move if I were inside her. She whimpered and the sound went straight down my spine like a jolt, making me hard. I gathered her against me and kissed her for so long that I almost forgot where I was or why I had to leave. Our tongues stroked and teased, breath coming in pants as we clutched at each other in a sweaty rush.
Madison tore her mouth from mine, breathing hard, and gasped, “You have a meeting, right?” I nodded, unable to speak yet.
“I know. I have to—” I kissed her again, “go. I have to go.” Then I went back to kissing her. It was like drowning in the best way possible, being consumed by that desire and knowing she was with me all the way. I managed to pull away from her, reluctant and distracted. I made my way to her door, staggering a little. She followed me to let me out and gave me a sweet, brief kiss at the door.
“Don’t tempt me. I’ll stay,” I warned, half serious. She gave a shaky smile.
“You better go,” she said. I took her advice. All afternoon at work, I felt lighter and clearer in my thinking. Happier. I was more than an aspiring partner in the firm. I was more than a man nearly broken down by a jealous ex. I was a Foster man, and I had something special with Madison. I could feel it.
11
ETHAN
“What did you think, Whitney?” I asked the senior partner in the firm after my presentation.
She glanced up at me over her reading glasses.
“No notes, Ethan. We’re presenting it as is. Well done.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Gratified, I shut down the slide deck and carried my laptop back to my corner office. I took off my jacket and loosened my tie, breathing in the satisfaction. I checked my voicemail and found a message from my friend Judy, the lawyer I’d consulted about the electrical problems in Madison’s storefront. She indicated she’d sent an email through with more detail but that the owner was liable for the upgrade and repairs and could be held accountable for lost business revenue to the tenants in an amount up to a year’s lease if he wanted to push back on paying for necessary electrical work.