Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
For the next two hours I am writing a recommendation and an executive financial order that all budgets have to be pre-approved beginning now. I show an example of a part of the budget that could have been cut in half before submitting all of this to the executive board and the marketing department.
Finally finished, I stand in the office and stretch. Taking a deep breath, I exhale, content to be home. I miss working from home, but I wouldn’t trade my access to April for the world. It's killing me that I have yet to sink into her warm pussy and make her admit what she feels, but I am also enjoying the dance between us. I love invading her space, forcing her to confront the tension between us and the unspoken desire.
“Woohoo. Kenny.” Crap. No one calls me that name but my mom; besides my pops, she is the only person with a house key. The question is, what is she doing here right now?
“Mom. Did I forget you were coming or something?” She blinks her blue eyes at me because she can read between the lines and see what I am not saying. What the hell are you doing here without telling me you were coming?
“No, dear. I haven’t heard from you in a week, and as the person who gave you life through forty-eight grueling hours of labor, I thought it was best to make sure my only dear son is indeed alive and hasn’t starved to death.”
For fuck sake. I think to myself as I smile at her antics. Last week it was thirty-six hours of labor. “I apologize mom. I have been quite busy. How are you and father?” She sighs this exasperated sigh like he is such a chore, but I can see through it. I have never seen two people so in love after all these years.
“He refuses to go anywhere without me. I tell him to pick up pickleball, or golf, or gambling or something with his friends, and all he does is ask me if I want to go too.” Sounds about right. My father is a bit obsessively possessive about my mom. He does not like to go anywhere without her. Hence the reason she spent thirty-five years as his PA. Well, thirty. Once I was born, she could stay home, but he came home for all of his lunches and was always home by dinner.
“Well, that sounds like such a nuisance.” I tease her.
“That is why I am calling you. Perhaps you can plan some things with him.” Shit.
“I can have dinner with him this week, but then after that, I am taking a vacation of sorts.” I am trying to be vague, but I should have known she wouldn’t leave it at that.
“A vacation? Alone?” She sounds appalled, which is comical.
“No.”
“Well, with whom?” Damn it.
“Well, not that it is any of your business, but I am going with April.” She says nothing for a moment.
“Does this mean you have finally gotten what you wanted?”
“No. But it is the perfect time for me to make it happen.”
“I see. And how long will you be gone?”
“Five weeks.”
“That is not a vacation, my boy. That is a honeymoon.” I can’t stop the laughter from letting loose. Leave it up to my mother to label a trip according to the length of time we will be gone.
“I suppose we could call it a pre-engagement trip.” She gasps and sputters before sounding exasperated.
“Well, Hell’s bells. Does that mean I am going to be a grandmother in the near future?” Yes, if I have my way.
“If all goes according to plan. Hell, you can even help plan the wedding.”
“Well then, chop chop, son. Make it happen.”
“Will do. I love you.”
“Love you too, son.” For a second I lament on my parents. I never heard a cross word between the two. They used to turn on the radio and dance with one another in the kitchen. There wasn’t a moment in my childhood that I remember my father not touching her in some intimate but appropriate way. My mom is, quite frankly, his everything. That is what I want for April. She is already my everything; I just need her to acknowledge it so we can stop playing games.
Once all of my work is done, I call the object of my heart and desire “Ken,” she says, formerly trying to hide her feelings for me.
“Hey, baby. I just wanted to confirm that I have booked everything. The itinerary has been emailed to you, and Lizette has been briefed and logged in to the system so she can keep things running.” Lizette is the Chief Operating Officer, but her access is limited. All of us have access to different things pertaining to our specific roles.
“Excellent. I am finishing up the last of my phone conferences and then blocking out my calendar. Are you going to be here the rest of the week?” She sounds almost hopeful.