Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I consider ignoring the call, really not wanting to deal with his bullshit tonight, but I also can’t resist the opportunity to hear him beg and grovel and tell me how much he fucked up. So despite my better judgment, I accept the call and press the phone to my ear.
“Dwayne,” I say in greeting, letting him hear the venom in my tone.
“Blair, hey,” he says, hesitation thick in his voice. “Listen, I know you and I have had our differences over the years, but the clients want you back. So, I’m willing to look past your donkey meme and the bullshit defamatory email that followed if you’d be happy to return. There would need to be consequences for the email blast, but I think we can work past them.”
I laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Blair. We both know that you’re going to come back. You love your position here. Just cut to the chase and tell me what it’s going to take to get you back.”
“I told you when I left,” I say, noticing the way Oxley watches me a little too closely. “I’m never coming back. I’m better on my own. I’m standing by everything I said. You screwed me over far too many times. So now it’s my turn.”
“Quit bullshitting me, Blair.”
“Woah. Quite the attitude for someone who’s desperate to get me back.”
Oxley leans in closer, his gaze narrowed on mine with a deep suspicion. “Do you have a boyfriend over in New York that Nick should know about? You’re not about to screw him over again.”
“Fuck no,” I say, interrupting Dwayne’s fuming. “It’s my old boss. He fired my ass and now the company is pressuring him to bring me back because I’m the best senior publicist the company has ever had and the clients will walk without me. Just as I predicted. Isn’t that right, Dwayne?”
Dwayne huffs and puffs. “Fuck you, Blair. You’re only making it harder for yourself. You know you can’t compete against SC, and the bigwigs upstairs aren’t going to accept your bullshit for long, especially when you start poaching clients and affecting their profit margins. You’ll be blacklisted in this industry.”
A smile flitters across my lips. “What’s the matter, Dwayne? You sound scared.”
“Come on, Blair. My ass is on the line here,” he finally admits with a heavy resignation. “The clients want you back. Otherwise, they’re walking. Just tell me your terms so we can get on with it. I’ll even reinstate your Christmas bonus.”
“Take your Christmas bonus and shove it up your ass. I’m not coming back. I’m starting my own firm, and if every single one of your clients chooses to sign with me, then so be it. But it won’t be because I poached them, it’ll be because they know who the best person is to represent them. Time to face the music, Dwayne. You got your position because you have a dick, not because you’re good at what you do, and it’s not my fault that the clients have finally figured out that you have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Blair—”
“Good luck, Dwayne. You’re gonna need it.”
I end the call, a cheesy grin resting on my face.
Fuck that felt good.
Oxley refills my glass and arches a brow, far too curious about what just went down to be innocent, though something tells me he’s just looking out for Nick. But he doesn’t need to worry about that because Nick and I are well and truly over . . . I think.
“So, that’s what sticking it to the man looks like, huh?”
“I mean, I prefer when a big burly man sticks it to me, on my knees with my head slammed down into the mattress. And while that definitely doesn’t compare to a good, thorough pounding, it was thrilling all the same.”
“Eww. I just know you were thinking about my cousin when you said that.”
A wicked smirk stretches across my face. I’m not going to deny it. Nick and I always had the best chemistry between the sheets. I laugh and grab my drink, taking a long pull from the straw. “So, speaking of the ring that didn’t pay for itself,” I say, shifting the topic faster than I changed my sheets after the thought of my asshole ex, Marc, screwing around in them with his mid-afternoon snack. “Are you nervous?”
Oxley seems to silently laugh at me, probably realizing exactly what I’m doing. “Shitting my pants,” he says with a charming smirk, his eyes lighting up like Christmas morning. “You’re going to be there, right?”
My jaw drops, and I gape at Oxley, warmth spreading through my stone-cold chest. “Me? Really? I wouldn’t miss it for the world, but are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure,” he says, busily moving around the bar. “Besides, something tells me you’ll be sticking around for a little while. Not to mention, between you and me, it’s not like you have any other plans anyway. Unless you were particularly fond of your current plan to spend your Christmas Eve sulking alone at home like the miserable little loner that you are.”