Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“Of course not. Why doesn’t he come over for a sleepover? I’m sure Winter would even love it.” I bite my lip and glance away. “Jacinta …”
I look back at her with a small smile. “I haven’t really had a night away from him. I have no family, and well …” When I had Oliver, August was the only one there for me. But he wasn’t Oliver’s father, even if he was an amazing man with him.
“Well, all the more reason to. You need alone time too, you know. You need to go out for cocktails or sit in your bath and eat chocolate. Gosh, do whatever the hell you want.”
Relief floods me as I stand. Rylee should hate me, but she doesn’t. I know why August loves her so much, even why Anderson was so scared to lose her. She’s someone you gravitate to, even if you don’t want to. She’s a naturally lovely person and one I have grown to appreciate so much.
“I should go before Beckham arrives.”
Rylee laughs. “Hunny, he’s already here. Beckham is the first to arrive and last to leave.”
My eyes go wide at her words. “Are you joking?”
She shakes her head. “Nope, but his assistant doesn’t usually get here for at least another half an hour, so you showing up early will make a good impression.” I stand, nod, and straighten my skirt before I turn to open the door and walk out. “Good luck, Jacinta.” I hear her words as I quickly step it to my office.
I changed my name to Mary when I was away, but Rylee refuses to call me that. And, eventually, I went back to my real name.
“I may need it,” I say quietly to myself as I walk to the other end of the building where Beckham’s office is located. My new desk is situated right outside his door. No one is currently at the desk, and the door to Beckham’s office is slightly ajar, so I knock lightly.
“What?” he barks.
Oh, crap! I straighten my spine and push the door open, attempting to give him my confident look. However, angry eyes glance up at me as I stand frozen in the doorway. Shit, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Mr. Harley, just letting you know I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”
His eyes rake over me, and something passes over them before they turn angry again. “What desk? Who the hell are you?” His hands now rest on the desk in front of him as he watches me, or should I say, assesses me. How can someone be so young and yet so damn intimidating? We are almost the same age, but shit, he knows how to get right under your skin and quickly.
He has a power to him. Even from a distance, I can see it, feel it as it emanates from his whole persona. And when you add on his looks, well, none of that is fair to any self-respecting woman.
I shouldn’t care about that though, right?
I’m here to work.
To do a job I am paid to do, nothing more.
“I’m your new assistant.”
He looks at me again. “You’re fired. Shut my door!”
“I …” No other words leave my mouth.
“Fired. Shut the damn door.”
I step back and do as he says, maybe with a little more emphasis than needed, when I hear the bang of its closing, then I stand there unsure of what to do. I’ve only been here for a few months, and now, well, I’m fired. But for what? I don’t understand.
“Just sit down and do your work. He fires Gloria every other day of the week,” a man pipes up from across the hall. He pushes his glasses up his nose and saunters off. I look at the chair where I’m meant to be sitting and wonder if it’s suicide if I sit down in it.
Shit.
I really need this job.
So I take a chance I’m not going to be escorted from the building anytime soon.
Sitting, I start the computer and arrange the work on my desk. Gloria has left me detailed notes everywhere, which proves to be very helpful. Pity she didn’t tell me I would be getting fired on my first day working for that man. I breathe out a heavy sigh.
“Gloria.” I turn at the sound of that voice.
He yells it again.
Then again.
I stand and step over to his door, contemplating opening it until the door swings open in front of me.
“You,” he seethes, then looks past me to my desk and then back to me.
“Yes. What can I get for you, Mr. Harley?” He steps back and slams the door, not answering me.
Well, okay then.
I’m glad I was able to be of assistance!
I take my seat and get back to work.
A few hours later, the door opens again, and Beckham stands there, large and intimidating.