Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“Oh wow. This is about to get juicy.”
I start laughing. “Not that juicy but it could get me fired if I’m wrong. Hell, it might get me fired if I’m right.” Stealing company funds is criminal. The accusation could be career-ending. Makes me question why I was given this account as my first with the company. Am I being set up?
I’m letting my thoughts run wild. If something dodgy is going on, they hired the wrong guy to cover it up.
Her mouth slacks, but she pulls the stylus from her hair. “Do I need to take notes?”
“No. And I’m not going into detail with you just in case I’m wrong. No point in both of us being fired.”
She leans back in the chair and watches as I walk the length of the windows. “You’re not giving me anything? Not even a hint?”
I grin. “Not yet.” Sitting behind the desk, I click on my schedule. “And for now, I have a call. If you receive the file first, let me know as soon as we get it from Olivia.”
“Yes, sir.”
When she leaves, I pick up the phone and call my mom.
“So punctual these days,” she teases. “I approve.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, Noah. How are you doing? How’s the job? How’s living in New York?”
“Better than expected. Going well.” I can’t see her, but if I could, I know she’s smiling. “How are you and Dad?”
“Fine and dandy. Marina has a show tonight at the university.”
Rocking back in the chair, I kick my feet up. “You should have told me. I might have been able to come down for a performance.”
“It’s a long drive.”
“How many miles did you guys drive to come to my baseball games last year alone?”
“Too many to count.”
“Exactly.” I nod, smiling. My family has always been my biggest cheerleaders. I was approached by coaches in the minor leagues a couple of times over the past few years. I thought I’d go pro, but something changed last year.
A sprained ankle from sliding into home gave me six weeks to reevaluate. I was a star third baseman. Fucking good. I just realized that wasn’t the life I wanted to lead.
My dreams changed after last summer in the Hamptons. I was over the partying, the women, the legacy I was trying to uphold.
I changed.
Looking around the office, it’s nice, but I laugh. Would it have been better than a dugout or being on the road with the guys? It’s not the biggest, but it’s nice. I don’t regret the path I chose, but I’m still working to find peace in my decision.
She says, “The show runs through Sunday night. You can stay here for the weekend if you want to go.” I tick through my weekend plans and come up empty. Before I can say anything, she adds, “You know you don’t have to. Marina doesn’t expect you to be there.”
“I know, but I want to be there.”
“There’s no pressure. She knows you support her, but let me know if you decide to come down, and I’ll order tickets for you.”
She always told me that I’ll always be her baby no matter my age. I may not understand the whole parent role, but I know as the kid in the situation it’s time I stand on my own. “You don’t have to do that. I can order the tickets, Mom.”
“All right,” she concedes.
“Let’s have dinner next time you’re in the city.”
“I’d like that, Noah. I’ll be there in a few weeks. When I have my plan, I’ll let you know what dates.”
“Sounds good.” I kick my feet down. “I need to grab lunch before the hour’s up. Miss you, Mom.”
“I miss you, too. I love you.”
“Love you.”
I tuck my phone in my pocket as I stroll out of my office. Leanna is gone from her desk on her lunch hour. I keep walking toward the break room but stop when I reach the door. Tight skirt, great ass, curves that extend from her torso to her chest, and long dark hair that falls in gentle waves over her shoulders. The shoes . . . fuck me. She knows how to get my attention.
“Were you staring at my ass?”
My eyes shoot to Liv’s.
“Your shoes, actually.” Why lie?
I drag my tongue across my bottom lip remembering how she tasted like sin in summer. Fuck . . . if I’m not careful around her, I’ll be hard. And I don’t want to give her the pleasure. She seems like the type to collect ammo to use against someone at the least opportune time for her victims.
The thing is, she doesn’t appear mad.
Interesting.
Lifting one foot in the air behind her, she twists to take a look as if something is wrong with them. “Why?”
I’m not at a loss for words. I’m at a loss of words that won’t get me fired on the spot. Do I really want to be searching for another job because the thought of her legs draped around my neck while wearing those shoes is something I’ll get off to later? Or that I imagine her standing in those shoes at the edge of my desk, and she’s naked, begging me to fuck her from behind?