Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
A surprised bark of laughter jumped from Sebastian’s throat, and I dutifully ignored how the sound warmed my heart. “Hell, Byron! I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t think we’re the Titanic yet, but you can’t abandon me. Not for a while, at least.”
“Courtland Enterprises is not the Titanic, and I have zero plans to leave the company. Period.”
Sebastian’s smile returned, and I didn’t want to think about how powerful it made me feel. It was as though I’d ascended to the heavens and shoved aside those clouds so his light could shine through. What I did for him might not seem like much. Most people would have thought that I just balanced his calendar, fetched his coffee, and made sure he had all the papers he needed for each meeting, but it was more than that. I was a sounding board, a safe place for him to vent, and the person who kept him focused. He was the captain, and I was his navigator searching for the smoothest course through choppy waters.
The ride to the office was a short one. Normally, the extra bodyguards would have been released for the day, but after the splash Sebastian had made at Bluepoint, I’d asked them to stay at the office to keep their eyes out for trouble. I didn’t expect any of the executives or directors of Bluepoint to make physical threats, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.
On the way up to Sebastian’s office, we made four detours through different departments. Sebastian believed in showing his face to all the workers so that he felt more approachable. As a result, he got to sign a birthday card, sing “Happy Birthday,” and eat cake while he directed me to find two appropriate baby shower gifts and send flowers to the wife of Janitor Patrick for her post-foot-surgery recovery. I also helped him dodge two more walls.
“That helped,” Sebastian announced as he strolled into his palatial office with me on his heels. I took his suit jacket and hung it in his closet while he rolled up his sleeves. “I am ready to get back to business. That merger was supposed to cut our supply chain costs. If things don’t improve from their current levels, we’re looking at layoffs by Christmas.”
Which I knew was the very last thing he wanted.
“Byron, how about an old-fashioned after-hours brainstorming session? We need one big new product to get us over the worst of the slump.”
As I turned toward his desk, he dropped into his swivel seat and spun to face me, his hands behind his head. I pulled out my phone and opened a blank page for notes.
“Of course, sir. Who would you like me to invite?”
“No, no!” He waved his hands. “I was thinking just the two of us. We can bring in others at a later date. Too many people in the early planning stage make it too noisy. I can’t think. My head is most clear when it’s only you.”
I would not blush. I would not blush.
He said crazy things like this all the time and didn’t mean a damn thing by it.
“We’ll order in some dinner. We haven’t tried that new Korean restaurant that opened up in OTR, and I know how much you love bibimbap. I could go for some bulgogi. Good food, quiet atmosphere. We’ll get this all worked out.”
If only it could be so easy.
I opened my mouth to agree, but a call appeared on my screen that stopped my heart. Sheriff Dan Wheaton. This was never good.
“What’s wrong?”
Sebastian’s sharp question snapped my head up and for a second, I was tongue-tied. I wasn’t sure how to explain that it was likely that my mother had been arrested again or found dead. Those things didn’t seem good to drop on your boss’s head.
“Umm…I…personal call…I…” I stumbled and stammered as if I’d forgotten the English language.
“Oh. Don’t worry about it. Take the call, and we’ll make plans later this afternoon.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled as I nearly ran out of his office. I answered my phone, slipping into a nook where no one could overhear me.
“Hey, Brian,” the sheriff drawled in a thick accent, making my eye twitch. The man could not remember that my name was Byron, not Brian. I’d think he did it on purpose if I didn’t hear him regularly call his coworkers and other people by the wrong name. The only thing that saved me from losing my shit with this man was his compassion and patience.
“How bad is it?” I sighed.
“Whelp, I got her locked up in the drunk tank. She was arguing with the neighbors about them letting their dog crap in her yard.”
I rolled my eyes. Why she even cared was beyond me. Her yard was barely larger than a postage stamp and filled with dirt and crabgrass. She never went outside.