Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 106147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Blake smiled. “We have one. We had two, but one left.”
“How many partners are there in total?”
“There are nine senior partners who manage the firm, and twenty-eight additional partners who share in equity.”
“Thirty-seven partners and you have one woman—and of course the one who left. Could she have left because she felt out of place?”
He chuckled. “Elaina left because she moved to Greece, actually. That’s where she was originally from. Her mom got sick, so she took a leave to go take care of her, and while she was there, she decided she wanted the simpler life back home.”
“Why are there so few women partners?”
“I guess because it’s not easy to make partner at the firm. The average attorney works seventy to eighty hours a week for more than ten years before they make it. You graduate law school around twenty-four, and a lot of women want a less-demanding job because they get married and have kids, or they plan to.”
“That sounds incredibly archaic.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But it’s a work-life-balance decision. If you’re married to your job, it’s difficult to be married to anyone else. Just ask my ex-wife.” We stepped up to the bar. “You want wine?”
“Sure. White, please.”
While we waited for our drinks, I gazed around. “You introduced me to a lot of wives, so how do these guys make it work?”
“They don’t. Not with their first wives anyway.” Blake surveyed the room. “Not a single woman I can see at the moment is an original. When you marry the first time, you usually marry for love, and that person expects your love and time in return. After that doesn’t work out, you marry for companionship and convenience. All your cards are on the table, so both of you know what you’re getting yourselves into.”
“That sounds…sad.”
“Maybe. But it’s also realistic. Many women lose out on partnerships because they want a family, but just as many men lose out on a family because they want a partnership.”
I wasn’t sure if it was my mood before we arrived, or the conversation we’d just had, but a feeling of melancholy settled in. Blake’s description of a second wife made me realize that was basically what I was searching for—a companion to spend time with but never really love. It made me sad that I’d never have passion, not the kind that consumes your heart, body, and soul, anyway. Sure, there was sexual passion—that I could have. And over the last few years that had been enough. I might’ve even forgotten anything more than that could exist. But it seemed impossible to put out of my mind these days.
“Will you be okay for a few minutes?” Blake asked. “I need to hit the men’s room after the long drive.”
“Oh…yeah, sure.”
He kissed my cheek, and I actually felt relieved when he walked away. I needed to be alone for a few minutes. My stupid emotions were getting the best of me today. Yet as I stood staring into the clear, blue pool water, I couldn’t help but think about Donovan. What I felt around him was so different than what I felt when I spent time with Blake. Donovan made me want—want more, to take more risks, to trust again, to believe the world could change and be a good place. It physically hurt to keep trying to stomp all of those feelings down. I sighed and sipped my wine.
Too soon, Blake returned. “Did you miss me?” he said.
“Of course,” I lied.
A light breeze blew, prickling my skin. I had on a sundress, and I rubbed my arm from the chill.
“You’re cold?” Blake’s brows furrowed.
“I wasn’t until just now. The breeze gave me a little chill.”
Blake had a napkin wrapped around the drink in his hand. He took it from the glass and used it to wipe perspiration from his forehead. “I must’ve missed that breeze you got. If it comes again, send it my way. It’s hot as hell over here by the pool.”
I figured it was because he had a long-sleeve dress shirt on, while I was wearing a sundress. “Why don’t we go stand under the awning? I’m not really cold. It was just that little breeze that gave me goose bumps.”
“That’d be great, if you don’t mind.”
We started to walk toward the house, me in front of Blake. I’d been looking down, careful not to get my heel stuck in the lawn, but when we reached the patio, I looked up and froze. Blake bumped into my back, spilling some of his drink over my exposed skin. He apologized, but I was too busy staring straight ahead to pay attention to whatever he said.
Those goose bumps hadn’t been from a breeze after all.
I blinked a few times to make sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. But the blue eyes boring into me were as real as could be.