Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I considered lying, just for a moment. It would be so much easier than facing their pity and concern, but I couldn’t do it. The truth would come out eventually anyway.
“It’s not going to happen,” I admitted, crossing the room and sinking into the other armchair. “Maybe I should just give up on finding a job like the one I had before. Maybe business isn’t for me anymore.”
Miles shook his head, frowning. “No, don’t do that. There are tons of companies in this city. You’re bound to find the right fit eventually.”
I looked at my brother—successful, popular, and a professional hockey player living his dream with the New York Lynx. They’d won the Stanley Cup last season. His life was the definition of having his shit together.
I tried to appreciate that his words came from a place of good intentions and genuine faith in my abilities. But I couldn’t quite suppress the bitter twist of jealousy that tightened my chest. It wasn’t fair to resent him. None of this was his fault, though I knew he partially blamed himself for the sacrifices I’d been forced to make.
If I’d finished my degree, I’d have more leverage and more doors would open beyond just my work experience. But life had other plans. I was in my third year of college when Mom was diagnosed with cancer, and suddenly I had a family crisis to manage. School became impossible.
Both of my brothers were older, already deep into building their careers. Miles was on the other side of the country back then, playing for a team in New Mexico, so the role of caretaker had fallen to me.
I didn’t regret it. Not for a second. Mom was healthy now, and that was worth more than any degree. But the sacrifice still echoed through my life in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
“Don’t worry about me,” I said, forcing a brightness into my voice. “I’ll keep looking. Worst case, I’ll be flipping burgers at McDonald’s.”
Tense laughter rippled through the room. I joined in, even though I wasn’t entirely sure I was joking.
CHAPTER THREE
Simon
I didn’t work on Saturday. After Liam’s pointed conversation about my assistant situation a few days ago, I was determined to prove—to myself at least—that I had everything under control. Even without Sarah.
Instead, I spent the entire day pacing my apartment, mentally cycling through all the work piling up on my desk. Emails I should be answering. Reports I should be reviewing. Calls I should be returning. All the work that wasn’t getting done because I was only one person and it was too much for me to keep up with.
Maybe Liam had a point. I didn’t like admitting that, but I was man enough to acknowledge when I was wrong. At least privately. I wasn’t about to actually tell Liam he was right. Didn’t want my brother getting too cocky.
It was early evening when a knock sounded at my door.
“Come in,” I called from the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers from the refrigerator as my good friend Kurt Seager walked in. He had a six-pack tucked under his arm, and I took it from him as I handed over one of the cold bottles I’d just retrieved for the two of us.
“You were almost late,” I said as we moved into the living room, where pre-game analysis had been droning on for the past hour. Kurt’s brother, Miles, played hockey for the New York Lynx, and I was lucky enough to attend home games with Kurt fairly regularly. But tonight’s game was in Virginia, which meant we’d be watching on my flat screen with cold beers and pizza on the way.
“I didn’t realize you were watching the clock.” Kurt twisted the cap off his beer, his tone dry. “Were you worried I was going to stand you up?”
I punched him in the shoulder, nearly making him spill his drink. Kurt was one of my oldest friends, and I was used to his sense of humor.
“I wasn’t worried.” I settled onto one end of the couch while he claimed the other. “I just figured you were busy with some woman again.”
Kurt groaned. “That was one time. And it was like three years ago. I don’t pick up women like I used to.”
“Getting too old to be a player?”
This time he punched me.
“What about you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t seen you with a woman in a while. You take a vow of celibacy or what?”
I chuckled, then took a long pull from my beer. “I’m busy. I spend too much time at work to get serious with anyone.”
Not that I was living like a monk. When I needed to blow off steam, finding a willing partner was never a problem. The women I ended up with were usually from the same circles I’d grown up in—socialites who recognized the Powers name and everything that came with it. They weren’t interested in me, not really. They were interested in the family money, the connections, the lifestyle. And honestly? That suited me fine. I didn’t have time for anything real. Didn’t have the bandwidth for emotional entanglements or the complications that came with them. Casual and brief worked for everyone involved. No expectations. No disappointments.