Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“He wasn’t there when I bought my first box.”
I was sixteen and alone. I’d had my share of oral up to that point, but when I knew I was about to fuck for the first time, I hit up a bodega far from where we lived and bought a box of a brand I heard some of my friends raving about.
Two weeks later, I headed back to boarding school with a summer conquest behind me that I never forgot or spoke to again.
She was my first lover, and although I haven’t seen her since, I remember the encounter for what it was — rushed, awkward, and full of missteps.
“Our legal department is swamped at the moment.” I glance at my phone. “Bringing Rook’s office in will guarantee that this deal has the attention it needs.”
“Sure.” Sean waves away the conversation with a flick of his wrist in the air. “You’re still on standby to head to the hospital at a moment’s notice, aren’t you? I need you in the hallway outside the delivery suite when my daughter is born.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Good.” He moves to stand. “I want the first person she meets after her mom and me to be her godfather.”
That hits me like a punch in the middle of my chest. “What?”
“Calliope is asking her sister to be Hailey’s godmother, so you’re her godfather if you’re up to it.”
I push to my feet. “Damn right, I am.”
I have no idea what that role entails, but I’ll do my best to embody it.
“I knew you’d be on board.” He glances at the condom package again. “Maybe one day you’ll meet a woman, and you can ditch those and give me a godchild.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” I tilt my chin. “You worry about your daughter. I’ll worry about condoms.”
He huffs out a laugh. “That says it all. Keep me in the condom loop, Decky.”
I shake my head as he wanders out the doorway. He may piss me off more often than not, but there are moments when I’m damn glad he’s my brother. I count today as one of those.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Abby
I glance around the conference room. On any other day, at this time, I’d be wading through a sea of contracts for Mr. Thorsen to ensure that every ‘t’ is crossed and every ‘i’ dotted.
It’s an important job that I don’t take lightly. I’ve grown accustomed to the almost daily ritual since it’s a pleasant way to wind down after absorbing everything I’ve witnessed in meetings or court.
Every other junior associate with the firm is required to take on certain tasks as well, and this is, by far, not the worst on the list.
When Svea came to my office an hour ago and told me that Mr. Thorsen needed me in conference room B at five thirty, I questioned her on why.
Her response was a grin and a shrug.
That left me feeling both excited and anxious for the full sixty minutes.
I glance toward the open doorway, wondering if anyone else will join my boss and me. I know I haven’t screwed anything up, so I’m fully expecting that this meeting is his way of adding another duty to my already stacked job description.
I hear the unmistakable sound of the pad of his shoes against the floor in the corridor. Everything in the offices of Thorsen & Associates is pristine. You can’t turn a corner without being greeted by expensive artwork on the walls and vases filled with fresh flowers.
Mr. Thorsen’s mom is responsible for all those fine touches. She may have stepped away from her job as a senior partner before I started working here, but she makes a point to visit the offices at least a few times a week to keep an eye on things.
“Abigail.” Rook looks directly at me as he steps into view. “Take a seat.”
I do as told, yanking on the back of one of the leather chairs. I skim a palm over my navy blue skirt before I sit and flip open the cover of my tablet so I can take notes.
Rook sits across from me. “We’ll speak for a moment. Then I’m expecting a client to arrive.”
Since this isn’t the first time I’ve been called into a late day meeting with Mr. Thorsen, I know what to expect. I’ll be ordering dinner sometime within the next couple of hours.
He adjusts his perfectly knotted dark gray tie. “Give me your honest thoughts on Declan Wells.”
My head shoots up. “Excuse me, sir?”
“Rook,” he corrects me for the first time ever. “You’ve been with us long enough that you can call me Rook.”
That’s a positive sign, so I smile. “Okay, Rook.”
He leans back in his chair. “Declan. You were stuck in an elevator with him. You must have an opinion of the man.”
If fucking were an Olympic sport, Declan Wells would be standing on the podium with a gold medal around his neck, but I can’t say that to my boss.