Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Then I sit at the desk, staring down at the unsigned letter, and for the first time in years, I can’t focus on a single number in front of me.
—
WEEKS LATER
THE CEO
LUCIAN
Every morning since Kendall quit, my office door has turned into a slot machine. Every time I open it, I’m hoping for the jackpot—Kendall Clarke sitting at her desk like nothing happened. Instead, all I get are three blanks in a row.
This morning is no different. The door creaks open, my chest stupidly tightening with expectation—only for Brian to stroll in instead.
“Brian, can you let me know when I can expect Miss Clarke in today?”
“Huh?” He arches a brow. “Is there a new Miss Clarke you’ve hired recently?”
“Funny.” I shut my laptop. “Kendall Clarke.”
“She quit, sir.”
“No, she just said she was quitting,” I say. “She was just being irrational in the heat of the moment.”
“HR signed off on her resignation, and so did you…”
I blink. “I was just calling her bluff.”
“Well, I guess she was actually holding a royal flush,” he says. “Anything else I can get for you?”
“She’s not coming to our dinner with Worthington tonight?”
“I doubt it.”
“What about on a personal level?” I ask.
“Sir, I think you need to go home and rest,” he says. “You’re starting to scare me.”
“So, she really fucking broke up with me…” I arch a brow. “After she was in the wrong?”
“I’m going home.” He walks to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No, wait,” I say. “Come back here for a second.”
He shuts the door on his way out, leaving me alone.
Knowing that I never misread or miscalculate, I refuse to believe Kendall would walk away from me. She’ll never find anyone better, so this doesn’t make sense.
I scroll down to her name and hit call.
It doesn’t ring.
There’s only a harsh beep.
“Your number has been blocked by this user,” a message says.
I roll my eyes and pick up my desk phone, calling Kendall that way.
“Your number has been blocked by this user.” The message returns.
Groaning, I slip out into the hallway and request to use my receptionist’s phone.
It rings once.
It rings twice.
“Hello?” Kendall answers.
“Why would you block me, Kendall?” I ask. “That’s not very mature of you.”
“You’re the last person to teach anyone about the word mature.”
“Come to my office so we can talk.”
“I don’t have anything else to fucking say to you,” she hisses. “And the only two words I would ever want to hear from you are ‘I’m sorry.’”
“I’m not sorry.”
She ends the call, and I sigh and call right back.
“Your number has been blocked by this user.” The message returns.
THE ACCOUNTANT
KENDALL
The last time my heart bruised this badly was in college. Now, the ache in my chest is heavier, sharper, like it’s pressing against every breath. And I feel far more foolish about this so-called “breakup.” At least the guy in college was my actual boyfriend.
Lucian was…
“Nothing,” I whisper. “We weren’t anything. We were nothing.” The words taste like lies, but I force them again, harder, hoping they’ll stick.
I place the last of Myra’s and my belongings in the storage container, beyond grateful that I never told Lucian about selling my brownstone. Each box feels heavier than it should, the weight pressing down until my arms tremble.
My new place won’t be available until the end of the month, so I’ll be using my savings to live in a hotel suite. A hotel suite that has a view of Hudson Yards, far away from Pearson Tech.
As I slide behind the wheel of my car, my chest tightens. Notifications sound with more blocked calls and texts from him, each one a fresh sting I refuse to answer.
I swipe them away, but the burn lingers behind my eyes. And then a news alert pops up with his name.
I can’t help but open this one. Just this one…
Billionaire Lucian Pearson Cancels IPO, Company to Remain Private
THE CEO
LUCIAN
The boardroom swells with celebration—laughter echoing, glasses raised, champagne flowing like victory. The employees are thrilled about remaining a private company—but they’re probably more excited about the twenty percent raises I’ve promised.
Along with the fact that I revealed my real survey result—14%—and vowed to do better in the future.
But without Kendall, it all rings empty.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I find myself in a quieter room, one of the lounge spaces off the executive floor. Dim lighting, leather chairs, the smell of whiskey lingering in the air. I sink into a seat and finally let out the breath I’ve been holding since the pitch began.
My phone buzzes and I instantly open it, hoping for a second chance.
Myra
I hate you EVEN MORE now.
Don’t you ever contact my Aunt K again!
Okay, I deserve this…
A shadow stretches across the doorway. Brian.
“Something I can get for you, sir?” he asks.
“No, I’m alright. Thank you.”
“People will start whispering more than usual if you don’t return to the party within the hour,” he says. “Just to let you know.”