Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Thirty minutes left to go.”
Thirty minutes of hell.
I force myself to get in line and stop drawing attention, but I can’t keep composed. I take another look at my phone, scrolling through already opened emails as I pace up and down the room, cursing loud enough that the other guys can hear me.
“Jesus Christ, man,” Seb says. “Can you give it a rest now? You’re dampening my fucking hard-on.”
I force a smile. “Sorry. But needs must.”
“Fuck stock issues. My needs are to get on that dirty little bitch as soon as Len has trussed her up, and make the most of our playtime. So sort your shit out, will you?”
Seb has grown in arrogance since his last merger. It’s notched up to another division. He was lighthearted when I first met him, excited as his empire grew one step at a time, but he’s a different man entirely now. My eyes scan around the group, and it’s with startling realisation I realise how true that is of almost everyone.
The men I shared companionship, business rapport, and the creation of The Agency with aren’t the men in this room anymore. They are hardened and ruthless now. Often crass and always greedy.
Yet, I’m not.
I’d rather throw myself on my own sword than turn into a shallow, egotistical narcissist.
In fact, I want the very opposite. I want to put my Bentley in reverse and drive back to earlier days, when this place used to be fun.
Or even further. Back into the distant past before I banished my dreams.
“Give me a moment,” I tell them, and turn my back. I set up an alarm with the same tune as my ringtone for seven minutes’ time, then thrust my phone back into my pocket. I rejoin the group and raise my whisky glass. “Fine, I’m done with emails. If it’s urgent, they’ll call.”
Seb is smiling as he tops up my drink.
“Thank fuck for that, workaholic.”
I force a smirk. “Sorry, sexaholic. Wouldn’t want to impose on your boner.”
“You’ll thank me later.”
I’m used to keeping a mask up when it comes to conversing in business, so I use the same tactics through the next few minutes, joining in at every possible opportunity despite the thunder in my guts. I’ve managed to blend back into the crowd when my alarm sounds out.
“Goddamnit.” I shake my head in frustration as I take my phone out. “Sorry, guys. I have to take this.”
I swipe the alarm to silent and press the phone to my ear, pacing away into a corner.
“What? Four days? But that’s impossible. Fourteen stores are already out of stock, and twenty are at virtually zero. It needs to be sorted now. NOW. No. Not tomorrow. I need to speak to him now!”
My heart is thumping so hard I fear it could be palpitations. I know the entire room is staring at me.
“I’m not going to be accepting this, Margaret. Absolutely not. The terms have been in place since July. I’m calling him directly.”
My cheeks are burning when I hang up my call and step back over to the group. I’m scowling as I shake my head.
“Fucking idiots. Honestly. It’s a piss take. I’m not going to be standing for this bullshit a moment longer.”
I check the clock, and then I go for it.
“I’m going to have to bail, everyone. My apologies, but I have business to attend to. This has to take priority.”
“Get on it here,” Bryson says, and gestures to the room next door. “Join the party when you’re done.”
I get a wave of panic at the prospect, wanting to get the hell out of here and be gone.
“Yeah,” Seb says. “We’ll only be down the hall. Don’t miss out on the show for the sake of one bloody phone call.”
I can feel my escape closing up around me. The other guys are nodding, but I’m already stepping away.
“I’d love to, but it’s going to take a lot more than one bloody phone call. This might well be an all-nighter. It’s global.” So many hawk eyes are on mine, perplexed as I gesture to the exit. “Have a good time. I wish I could join you.”
Seb shakes his head, looking at me like I’m a madman.
“At least we know you’ll be joining us for Cream’s hungry butt in a few weeks. Wouldn’t want to miss out on that fun time, would you, Santa?”
A few of the men laugh at that, and I laugh along. “You’ve got me there, Seb. As if I could resist.” I do my very best to keep my composure. “Good evening, gentlemen. Give Harlot an extra spray on my behalf, won’t you.”
My breaths quicken beyond reason the very moment I close the door behind me. I stay in the hall, leaning back against the wall as I message my driver. I wipe the sweat from my brow, pacing on a mission for the front door, but stop in my tracks when the grand entrance appears.