Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Landry,” I said. “I have a question.”
“Is it about Cutmore?” he asked. “Because I’m about to head into the office, too. If you think he’s going to chew you out, I can come in and be right there next to you.”
I breathed in a lungful of crisp, cold air. “Actually, I don’t think I’m worried at all about what Cutmore might say.”
“Really?” Landry asked, genuine surprise in his voice. “What’s up, Emmett?”
I cleared my throat. “Is it bad if I am falling for a formerly straight pro football player who’s the opposite of everything I am?” I asked bluntly. “That can’t possibly be a good thing, can it?”
I felt like I may as well have just run naked through the center of town. Like I was suddenly airing every private thought I’d been keeping inside.
Had I really just admitted that out loud?
Or to myself?
But Landry’s melodic laughter came through the phone. “Oh, Emmett.”
It was so good to hear him laugh.
“Am I losing my mind?” I asked.
“Let me guess,” he said. “Did you finally charm the pants off of Storm again and you’re ready to admit you two are cute together?”
“Cute together?” I protested. “Are you the one who’s out of your mind?”
“I saw you two together,” Landry said. “You were at each other’s throats, but you also looked at each other like you were the center of the universe. Yes, you’re cute together.”
“I did not charm the pants off him,” I said. “It was more like the other way around. He ended up at my house, and then it snowed, and…”
“And of course, of course, you can’t help but fall for someone on the first snowy night of the year,” Landry teased.
I breathed out a long sigh. “I’m pretty sure I could fall for Storm even if I was at the top of an active volcano. As much as the snow does turn me into a hopeless romantic. I’m pretty sure I still also want to fight him, multiple times a day, but… it’s starting to feel like even when we fight, it ends up with both of us smiling.”
“Wow. You really like him.”
“Shut up. God, how is that possible?”
“It’s not just possible,” Landry said. “I think it’s the best thing you’ve told me in years.”
I sighed, sliding into the front seat of the Porsche. “This morning should be awful, for me. I should be dreading the meeting with Cutmore so badly I can barely speak. But instead I feel like I’m on a cloud.”
“A Storm cloud,” Landry said.
I groaned.
“It’s a good thing you’re my best friend, because otherwise I’d slap you in the face as soon as we got in the office.”
“You wouldn’t,” he said. “Emmett, I’m happy for you. Really happy. You needed this.”
I bit my lower lip.
I knew he was right. I really did need this. Even though it was still terrifying to admit.
“I’m not going to get my hopes up,” I said. “Everything is new. Storm was under the impression that he was straight until recently. And we did hate each other.”
“I don’t think you ever really hated each other,” Landry said. “I think you were just both too blind to see how good you are together.”
“I have to head into the office now,” I said. “I’ll see you there.”
I knew things would be bad with Cutmore, but I had no clue just how bad.
It seemed like a typical meeting at first—his expression was stern, and he looked at me like a school principal about to scold a first grader, but that was how Cutmore looked half the time, anyway.
This office used to be my dad’s, and Cutmore had taken it over, only a few weeks after my dad had passed.
I still hated it. I hated sitting in this chair across from him, knowing that I used to feel so happy, so loved, in this same spot.
“I was disappointed by you on this Racks deal,” he said a few minutes into the meeting.
Of course.
“I did everything I could,” I said. “The financial projections were so solid from the Fixer Brothers. Everything should have been a done deal.”
Cutmore’s icy eyes went straight through me. “Maybe it wasn’t about the, uh, Fixer Brothers’ financials.”
I blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Maybe, for a good family company like Racks, it was more about the Fixer Brothers’ lifestyle.”
That word hit me right in the chest.
Lifestyle.
From Walter Cutmore, that meant one thing and one thing only. The Fixer Brothers happened to be openly gay, and for Cutmore, that meant they weren’t wholesome. Weren’t a good family company.
I cleared my throat. “That wasn’t an issue at all.”
“I don’t know about that, Emmett.”
“I’ve met the Vice President of Racks, and she and her son are both members of the queer community—”
Cutmore turned his nose up. “Yes, yes, I’m aware of that,” he said, the last word coming out with a venom in his tone. “Every company needs to play politics these days, don’t they?”