Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I was scared.
I’m not scared anymore. I’m certain.
So I send Aiden a text. We agree to meet at the bar across the street from our building at six o’clock tomorrow evening. Theo told me he has some kind of rowing workout with the guys then, so I know he won’t be around to see me talking with our boss.
When I get back to Theo’s place, I tell him I’m meeting up with some mentees for drinks after work tomorrow. I spend the rest of the night praying like hell I can pull this off.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Theo
My knee bounces underneath the counter. An ice-cold Olde Meck Copper sits untouched on the bar in front of me. Highlights from the basketball tournament blare over Connolly’s speakers, but despite Duke making it to the Sweet Sixteen, I’m too distracted to pay attention.
I check my watch. Five thirty.
Aiden is fifteen minutes late. Not like him. My knee slams into the counter and I curse. Then I curse again when I remember I’m in public, and anyone from work could see me here. And by ‘anyone’ I mean Nora. Yes, she said she was going to some swanky wine bar with her mentee. But Charlotte is a small place. What if they decide to change locations last minute? Bar hop?
Glancing over my shoulder, I breathe a silent sigh of relief when I see the bar is still empty. No surprise, considering it’s early on a Monday night.
I check my phone just to be sure. No texts from Nora since the one I sent her at five, saying I’d meet her back at the house later tonight. I type out another quick one—thinking of you, hope drinks go well with the kids—then glance at the time again.
Five thirty-five, and still no sign of Aiden. I send him a text too. No response.
Because giving up the promotion you’ve been gunning for your whole life isn’t nerve-wracking enough. Now I have to be kept waiting? It’s torture.
I knew it was time to put my cards on the table when I told Nora I loved her. Dad showed me love isn’t just a pretty word made up of pretty promises. It’s making sacrifices, the way he sacrificed his dream of becoming an engineer so he could be around to raise me. It’s working hard and showing up. It’s coming through on those promises.
I promised Nora I’d help her fight the good fight to change the toxic culture at A&T. I also promised her I’d be the good guy. So I called Aiden while Nora was at brunch with her friends and asked him to meet me at Connolly’s tonight so we could discuss my future. I figured now’s as good a time as any to take the leap. And maybe I can finally convince Nora to let me date her in public. Take her out, show her a good time without us worrying about being seen. If we do this right, hopefully her reputation won’t take a hit.
I’ll do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t.
Five forty. Still no response from Aiden or Nora. I know I’m keyed up, but something feels off. Are they together? But why would they be? And why would Nora lie to me about meeting her mentee?
Then again, I lied to her about where I am right now. All in the name of a worthy cause, though. I hope.
I try to drink my beer, but even that tastes wrong. Five fifty.
Fuck it.
Tossing a couple bills on the bar, I head out. I try calling Aiden, but again, no answer. Maybe he’s stuck in his office? I know better than anyone how easy it is to get stuck on the desk thanks to an uncooperative client or incorrect trade ticket.
My heart is racing as I take the elevator back up to the floor. I have no idea what I’m going to tell Nora if she’s still here, but I’ll think of something. I just want to get this done already so I can go home and be with her. Maybe pop some champagne when I share my news.
Pushing through the doors to the trading floor, I notice it’s about half full. Not long ago, I’d be one of the poor assholes still hammering away at his keyboard at six o’clock, listening to the guy next to me talk about banging some chick he met at Charlotte’s one and only cheesy nightclub, while the guy next to him scrolls through ESPN. I was always proud of the fact that I came in early and stayed late.
Now I just feel sorry for the people who have to do that.
I feel like I’m going to vomit as I approach Aiden’s office. I still have to round a corner, but I’m able to see movement through the office’s glass wall—he must be at his desk. I frown. If he’s at his desk, why isn’t he answering my texts and calls?