Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
I hear him tut. ‘Ava, please. It’s Mikael. Goodbye.’
‘Goodbye, Mikael.’ I hang up and sit at my desk, tapping my tooth with my fingernail. I really don’t know if he’s just being super friendly or super friendly. He took my decline to dinner pretty well, so am I reading too much into this? This is Jesse Wards fault, or do I have easy written on my forehead? I instinctively reach up and rub my head. Christ, I’m a mess.
I retrieve my drawings for The Life Building, spread them out on my desk, and grabbing my pencil, I start making notes. I hear the office door open in the background, but I don’t look up. I’m on a roll with additional ideas. It’s a welcome, and very needed, distraction.
‘Ava,’ Tom calls. ‘It’s someone for youhoo!’
I look up, nearly falling off my chair when I see Jesse stood, bold as brass, at the front of the office. Oh, good God, what is he doing?
He walks, with complete confidence, over to my desk – all godly in his faded jeans, white t-shirt and ruffled hair. I notice Tom and Victoria tapping their pens casually on their desks as they follow his path to me. Even Sal has paused mid-fax, looking slightly confused. He lands at the foot of my desk, my eyes travelling up his body to meet his green gaze, the semblance of a smug, satisfied smile tickling the corners of his mouth.
I’m not sure what to make of this. He left me, not half an hour ago, with shaky legs and a mind racing in confusion. The shakes have returned, except my whole body is trembling now, and my mind’s a disorder of chaos and uncertainty. What’s he trying to prove here?
‘Miss O’Shea.’ he says softly.
‘Mr Ward.’ I greet hesitantly. I look at him questioningly, but he’s giving nothing away. I glance across the office, spotting three pairs of eyes flicking towards me at regular intervals.
‘Aren’t you going to ask if I would like a seat?’
I snap my eyes back to Jesse. ‘Please,’ I indicate one of the black tub chairs on the other side of my desk. He pulls one out, lowering himself slowly into the chair. ‘What are you doing?’ I hiss, leaning across my desk.
He smiles that self-assured, melt-worthy smile. ‘I’m here to settle an invoice, Miss O’Shea.’
‘Oh,’ I lean back in my chair. ‘Sally?’ I call. ‘Can you deal with Mr Ward, please? He would like to settle his outstanding account.’ I watch as Jesse shifts in his chair slightly, throwing me a critical look. I’m not being defiant. It’s not my job to take payment; I wouldn’t know where to start.
‘Of course,’ Sally calls. I see realisation hit her. Yes! It’s the same man that screamed at you down the phone, bulldozed the office and sent you flowers. Apparently, I drive him crazy! I throw her a don’t-ask-just-do look, prompting her to scuttle off towards the filing cabinet.
‘Sally will look after you, Mr Ward.’ I smile politely.
Jesse’s eyebrows shoot up, his frown line jumping into position. ‘Only you.’ he says softly, for my ears only. He makes no attempt to remove himself from my desk. He just sits there – all casual and relaxed, regarding me closely as Sally farts around at the filing cabinet.
Hurry up!
I nearly snap my pencil when I hear the familiar thump of Patrick’s heavy feet from behind me. This day just keeps getting better and better.
‘Ava?’
Glancing nervously up, I see Patrick stood at the side at my desk, looking at me expectantly. I wave my pencil in the general direction of Jesse. ‘Patrick, this is Mr Ward. He owns The Manor. Mr Ward, meet Patrick Peterson, my boss.’ I throw Jesse a pleading look.
‘Ah, Mr Ward, I know your face.’ Patrick puts his hand out.
‘We met briefly at Lusso.’ Jesse says as he stands and clasps Patrick’s hand.
Did they?
I see the pound signs ping into Patrick’s delighted, pale blue eyes. ‘Yes, you brought the penthouse.’ he chirps joyfully. Jesse nods his confirmation. I notice Patrick isn’t so worried about his outstanding bill now. Sally approaches with a copy of Jesse’s invoice and jumps a mile when Patrick snatches it from her dainty, pasty hand. ‘Have you offered Mr Ward a drink?’ he asks a stunned Sally.
‘I’m fine, thank you. I’ve just come to settle my account.’ Jesse’s husky tones reverberate through me as I sit, stuck like velcro to my chair, watching the polite exchange going on before me.
How can he be so calm and collective? I’m sat here, tense from top to toe, twiddling my pencil nervously in my hand and keeping my mouth firmly shut. It must be obvious that I’m uncomfortable, but Patrick seems oblivious.
Patrick waves Sally away. ‘You shouldn’t have rushed in just for this.’ He flaps the outstanding invoice in the air.