Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
I don’t argue. This interview is a big deal for her and I can’t accompany her in sweats. I hurry around the corner and up the stairs toward the master bedroom where Cat and I have had more than a few work sessions in cozy chairs. Ten minutes later, I’m in black jeans, a black lace blouse, and Cat’s ankle boots. Another fifteen minutes later, and we step onto an empty subway car.
With plenty of seating options, I point to the end where I can see what is coming at us. The car starts to move. “I was thinking about you and Cole,” Cat announces.
I twist around to face her. “Why are you thinking about me and Cole?”
“Oh I don’t know. You went to talk and you two didn’t choose the living room, den, office or anywhere in the apartment. You went outside, and you came back red-faced with swollen lips.”
I inhale and face forward. “We had a heated debate.”
She laughs. “I could tell.”
I smirk in her direction. “Don’t be funny.”
“I can’t help myself,” she says, “but jokes aside, I wanted to say something to you when you were captive and had to listen.”
I laugh. “That is so you.”
She grins. “It is, isn’t it?” She rotates to face me. “First, just as a side note that I didn’t mention this morning. Because I consult at the firm I know that the company policy allows for inter-office dating. Read your handbook, the procedures are inside.”
“Cole and I are not dating.”
“Back to what I was thinking about you and Cole. You met and you walked away from him, but he came back to you.”
“As my boss.”
“That’s not the point. You found each other again. I think that’s pretty incredible.”
Twice, I think. He came back to me twice, but I don’t say that to her. “It’s just so complicated and confusing, Cat.”
“I know,” she says, taking my hand. “I get that a lot has happened that you couldn’t see coming. I know what it’s like to finally have good happening in your life, but also fear that more bad will follow. But sometimes just like the bad, we don’t see the good things coming until they’re here. Like us meeting in the coffee shop, and the scholarship, and maybe, just maybe, Cole. Things happen for a reason. You say Cole needs you, but the way I see it, you need each other.”
The loud speaker sounds, and the car halts, saving me from a reply on a topic where we are divided. She thinks need is good and I do not. But then, she needs Reese and he makes her feel safe in that need, but they’re equals. Both just as successful and powerful. Cole and I are not. My mother and my father were not. To me, need is a bad word. It’s dirty, messy, and emotional. With Cole, there was never supposed to be anything but the dirty. There was never supposed to be need or emotion. I can’t change the fact that I need him professionally. I just can’t get emotional. I can’t fall for Cole Brooks. I won’t fall for him.
The interview for Cat’s book goes well and when it’s done, Cat and I split up in the subway with just enough time for me to head home, gather what I need to get ready at her place, and return. I even have time to grab Starbucks for my mother who is in her pink pajamas with little angels on them, making coffee when I walk in. “Look what I have,” I say, delivering her the cup.
“You are my angel,” she says, lighting up.
We chat for a few minutes, and I tell her all about the party before I pack a small overnight bag that I’ll need because I am staying with Cole. My mother is back in the kitchen making her morning oatmeal when I exit the bedroom, and I’m just about to leave when I pause at the door with a question.
“Did you talk to your architect?” I ask, turning to eye her reaction.
She purses her lips. “He came by to see me and ask me out again, but I avoided him.”
I think of my attempts to avoid Cole. Okay, I don’t think I actually have any attempts to avoid Cole, aside from the morning after I slept with him. Bad example. I set my bag on the floor and cross to stand on the opposite side of the counter from her. “I thought you were going to talk to him?”
“We’ll see,” she says, cutting her stare to stir her oatmeal. “I just need to go with what feels right.”
I’m torn here. I don’t want her to end up dependent on another man, but I don’t want her bitter and alone either. I press my hands to the counter. “Don’t judge him based on what dad did to you.”