Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
His brow inches upward. “And what things would those be?”
“It doesn’t matter. You don’t care what I think about you. You care why I did what I did, as you should. No one wants to be in business with a liar. And I’m not that. The name thing spun out of control.” I motion between us. “You—me—we were just—good for each other that night. I didn’t want it to end, and I didn’t think it would go anywhere else but that room, for any reason at all.” He opens his mouth to speak, and I hold up a hand. “Please let me just get this all out, and then you can judge me how you see fit.” I don’t wait for his reply, driving forward with my explanation. “If you knew who my father was, I thought you’d assume I had an agenda for you to help him, but I don’t. I didn’t. I thought you were the asshole he felt you were to him, so I wanted him to have an investor who respected and cared about him, and again—I know he was defensive. None of this is about butchering you. It’s just explaining.” I twine my fingers together and press my index fingers to the bridge of my nose a minute, willing the burn of embarrassment my confessions have caused to fade before looking at him again. “I’m sorry. And it was probably foolish of me to accept this invitation. Why am I even here?” I ask again.
“You tell me. Why are you here?”
His tone is cold as ice, and I’m suddenly, or not so suddenly, freezing to death in a stuffy bar. “Because I started working with Moore’s before you were even in the picture, and I didn’t believe you’d actually care about my part of its business.”
“And yet, I was in Hawaii for the event.”
“Yes, but you have many other interests. Why would I present my brand to Moore’s as its own label if I really thought you’d be involved?”
“And yet, you wanted your label to become a major part of Moore’s business.”
“I did, I do, but why would you care if I’m the one who made that happen, if it’s already done, and you benefit from it?”
“You thought you’d deceive me again.”
I feel the words as a stab in the heart and bristle, suddenly defensive myself. “While you sit here finding every angle to turn me into one of the many people who want you for your money, maybe you should consider that by keeping you out of this, I was doing it on my own. I was coming to your business with a way to make money for all of us. You told me if I wanted to compete with Prada, not to settle. You dared me to be more, and I dared to listen. I presented Zoey. And here I am, sitting across from you, being treated like I’m some money-grubbing whore.” The word “whore” is out before I can stop myself, and I can feel the heat of my anger, burning too hot, and too wild. “Obviously, we’re done.” I push to my feet, but I meet his burning stare. “Goodbye, Ethan,” I whisper, and I start walking.
“Sofia,” he says, his voice low, and rough.
I halt, but the burn in my belly is fire, and the anger in my blood is emotion that isn’t professional and will lead me no place good. I force myself to rotate to face him, and for several intense, charged beats, we just stare at one another, until finally he says, “No one but you told you not to go to the meeting tomorrow. Remember that if you choose not to attend. Goodnight, Sofia.”
Not goodbye.
Goodnight.
My lips part in surprise, and a shaky breath whispers from my lips, and I don’t know what to say in return, so I say nothing. I just rotate and start walking.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Once I’m in my room again, I lean on the door, my heart racing, and my adrenaline off the charts to the point I think I’m trembling. He made me angry, which felt like a good thing at the time because it was a defining emotion, something I could hang my hat on and own. And yet, somehow, just as I was leaving, Ethan had reeled me back in and jumbled up my thoughts and emotions.
“No one but you told you not to go to the meeting tomorrow. Remember that if you choose not to attend. Goodnight, Sofia.”
Those three sentences said everything and nothing.
I could not be more frustrated, and I push off the door and start pacing, repeating the words “if you choose not to attend” with a renewed punch of anger. No, he didn’t tell me not to attend, but he darn sure made sure I know he thinks I’m up to something shady.