Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
God fucking dammit.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I hated this woman, but somehow, I was stuck…again.
My phone vibrated on the table.
It was my mom. I’m down the street. Do you mind if I stop by and take a look at Emerson’s work?
It was Saturday morning, and I wasn’t in the mood for company. But I couldn’t say no to my mom. Sure. I just hoped she didn’t mind that I was obviously hungover and I desperately needed some acetaminophen if the caffeine from my coffee didn’t work.
She knocked on the door fifteen minutes later.
I looked like a slob, but there wasn’t time to clean up so I didn’t bother.
Even though it was ten in the morning on a Saturday, my mom looked like she was ready for a gala. She was in her usual pencil skirt and blouse, and her hair was in curls down her chest. Her glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, which she only wore when she had trouble reading. She gave me her typical bubbly smile. “Hey, honey.”
“Hey, Mom.”
She looked me over and skipped the hug as she came into my penthouse. “Fun night?”
I rubbed my eye with my palm. “Something like that…” It had started off good then went to shit quickly.
“Wow.” She crossed her arms over her chest and surveyed the living room. “It’s beautiful…” She came close to the flowers and touched the petals to check their vitality, and then examined the other items that had been placed on the tables and walls. She examined the painting of the horse on the wall. “Wow, that’s lovely. Perfect for you.”
I wasn’t a particular fan of horses, but I liked the darkness of the painting.
“You smell that?” She wafted her hand toward her face.
I rolled my eyes. “Mom…”
“It actually smells clean.”
I chuckled. “Yeah. It’s an improvement.”
“This penthouse feels like a whole new place. What do you think?” She came back to me, her arms dropping to her sides.
“No complaints.”
She rolled her eyes. “Such a man…”
“What are you up to today?”
“One of my clients is hosting a luncheon at the Four Seasons, so I’m setting everything up. Decided to take a coffee break.”
When Dex was born, she went down to part time and remained that way until my sister was old enough that she didn’t need her all the time. Once we were gone from the nest altogether, she went back to her long hours. My dad did the same. The strong work ethic that I had, along with my siblings, definitely came from both of them. My father was one of the richest men in the world, so my mom never had to work—but she chose to. They got a lot more satisfaction out of their jobs than monetary compensation. They dedicated their lives to something they cared about once their exclusive dedication to us was no longer necessary. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’ll get out of your hair. You look like you need a nap.”
“I just woke up.”
“Then you woke up too soon.” She gave my arm a squeeze, teasing me. “How’s Emerson working out?”
I shrugged. “It’s been a few days…”
“But it looks like she’s doing some good work here. And if you have no complaints, that’s a really good sign.”
“We’ll see how it goes.” She forced me out of my comfort zone, and so far, I didn’t like it. Having the penthouse cleaned and decorated gave it a homier feel, but she had a lot of changes she still wanted to implement, and I might snap at some point.
“She’s very intelligent and she’s got grit. I like that.”
I slid my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants.
“She’s beautiful too.”
“What does that matter?”
She shrugged. “Just saying…” She turned back to the door. “Well, I should get going. I’m glad you’re happy with the place.”
I followed her. “I never said I was.”
She winked before she shut the door. “But we both know you are.”
Fourteen
Emerson
I left the subway and walked up the stairs to the sidewalk. It was early in the morning, so early that it didn’t feel like summer at all. I crossed the street then approached the entrance to his building, carrying two coffees, and stopped at the black Escalade parked out front. I waved through the window to the driver.
He rolled down the window.
“Ronnie?” I asked.
“That’s me.” He spoke with a deep voice. He was a big man with an even bigger smile.
“I’m Emerson.” I reached inside and handed him the coffee. “This is for you.”
“Wow.” He took a drink and placed it in the cupholder. “Thanks, darling.”
“I’m going to head upstairs and get Mr. Hamilton. Just so you know, he’s a bit rough around the edges.”
He rolled his eyes. “Aren’t they all? Don’t worry, I handle it. I’ll do what I do best.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t talk.”
I gave him a thumbs-up. “That’s perfect.” I turned around to head inside, but I stilled when I noticed a billboard a few streets away. It showed a blond woman in her underwear, advertising lingerie. It was so scandalous that I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to be plastered on a billboard for everyone to see.