I’m tense as I sit in the office waiting for Jake, he hasn’t called or text me all weekend and I’ve been too afraid to contact him. Apart from after our time on his boat, we’ve never gone this long with no contact and it has me overly touchy and emotional. My nerves eating away at me. Already I’ve snapped at two receptionists when coming through the floor to the office, for the smallest things.
I check my watch repeatedly.When Rosalie takes up residence in her own area of the office outside of mine, I realize it’s after nine and Jake still hasn’t shown up; he’s rarely late. I’m tense and on edge, and I’ve no idea what we’ll even say to each other. All I’ve thought about all weekend is what we have done. How it felt to have him kiss and touch me that way, what it felt like to let Jake have sex with me, and it brought me to tears over and over.Despite everything I thought when it first happened, I“We can talk about this, Jake.” I finally manage, my voice broken and childlike. I want to get up and walk to him, throw myself back in his arms and beg.Tell him, Emma … Tell him you love him.“No … There’s nothing to say.” The iciness in his tone kills my voice completely, shutting down the words I long to let out. A scolding so harsh it silences them. “It’s done, Emma, it’s arranged … Clear out your things today, take the rest of the day off, then report to the HQ offices first thing tomorrow. You’ll work for my father from now on.” His tone cruel … Jake’s gone and only the version who left me on the boat remains, ripping my heart to shreds. I shake my head, a new wave of tears building up inside of me, the panic and hysteria, and chest-crushing pain returning tenfold.“Jake …” I can barely talk through the crippling suffocation.When will this ever
No—I don’t think I had been. I learned to trust him, saw more than just the Casanova playboy. I saw the real Jake. The caring, funny, and sometimes vulnerable, Jake. He told me everything about his life. Our bond was real … Our friendship. He’d been affectionate and attentive while no one else cared for me and looked after me the way he did. I refuse to believe that none of it was real.I pick up my iPad and scroll the monumental list of songs we sent one another over the past few months, the jokes, the apologies, the hidden meanings, trying to see the truth behind it all … I stop on a song, pausing my inner anguish with that of confusion as my gaze falls on the unfamiliar.Skylar Grey—“I Know You”.I wonder when he sent this?It’s not one I remember ever being gifted to me, no memory of it as I flit back through our time together and I can’t recall him ever sending me this song. Sometimes he just adde
The subway to work is crowded as usual, even at this early hour the smell and noiseareoverwhelming. I’m overly fragile, nausea plaguing me all the time these days; the stress of moving offices and away from Jake making me physically ill.I check my watch for the fiftieth time this morning.I’m late again … What the hell is wrong with me lately?I groan inwardly. I can’t seem to get my head together or get back on track with anything. Giovanni Carrero has yelled at me so many times these last three weeks, I feel like resigning. He’s demoted me to coffee bearer for now and I’m slowly losing everything I’ve worked for. My reputation as an efficient PA is shot and I’ve heard the rumors circulating the building.Jake Carrero dismissed me for my incompetence and moved me to his father’s building, because he felt sorry for me.That stung. The lies upset me, but I push the
“Emma? Mr. Carrero wants to see you.” A small childish voice comes up behind me, causing me to flinch and drop my duster. My heart hits a sudden stop as I inhale heavily pushing back my hair which is stuck to my face from the exertion of my enthusiastic cleaning, my eyes widening in disbelief.What? Jake? He’s here?My brain reels a moment with a lurch of possibility before sense smacks me in the chest sharply, kickstarting rapid heartbeats.No. Giovanni! Of course!I feel like an idiot.I throw a tight smile her way before turning smoothly to acknowledge the girl, pushing down signs of my overreaction and trying to calm my crazy thudding pulse rate.It’sone of the small receptionists, all blonde hair, and big boobs—like most ofSenior’sstaff. He’s sickeningly singular about the women in his employ, finding those whose looks are less like the wom
Wilma Munro is a shock to the system. She’s Scottish and her accent is thick, but not completely alien, with hints of a long New York residency. I can understand her for the most part and she’s a resolute force to be reckoned with.Wilma is small with dark coppery curly hair and huge brown eyes set in a love heart face, standing at only four and a half feet tall. She catches me immediately in her whirlwind of enthusiastic energy. Loud, but not in a commanding way, she is direct, yet friendly and slightly terrifying. She whisks me into my new domain, assigns me a desk near her office, and outlines my responsibilities as part of her team, thrusting a box of files at me. She believes throwing someone in at the deep end brings out their inner worth.“I’ve heard enough about you, Miss. Anderson, to know you were being wasted at Carrero Tower. I’ve great expectations of you.” She smiles warmly, soft eyes twinkling merrily as she fawns over
They both sit and begin to eat; the silence is awkward and tense, but no one attempts to initiate conversation. The nurse looks around timidly before deciding staring at her plate is the best option and lowers her head. Finally, feeling my irritation rise beyond control, I break the glass-like atmosphere with a sledgehammer.“Why are you here?” I blurt out, with not so subtle venom.“I … We needed to talk about things, Emma.” She lowers her lashes, attempting to be coy, maybe even feebleness, but it only angers me. Putting her fork down and crossing her hands on the table she leans toward me.“About what exactly? The fact that you’re screwing the man who loves to beat both of us up and tried to rape your only child?” I spit, harshly, taking delight in the nurse’s gasp of shock and the color rising up her cheeks.I guess she didn’t know after all.“Yes … Emma, he&rsqu
I get into the elevator, smoothing down my skirt, and glance at the narrow mirror by the door, sighing and take my place at the side of a couple of staff in here. I look better, feel better, and more in control. I’ve only been back at Executive House for a few days, but somehow the familiarity of this building, and the people who knew me as Jake’s assistant so treat me with more respect than I received at Carrero Tower, have helped me get back on track.I’ve barely slept the last few nights. My mother’s appearance has left my mind in a constant cyclone of thoughts and insecurities. I’ve replayed my mother’s words a million times in my head, none of it makes sense to me, the obvious aside, I can’t wrap my brain around her admission.Ray isn’t the kind of person to up and run off because another guy gave him a taste of his own medicine. He only left years ago because I threatened to involve the police. I’m sure someth
I sit in the ladies’ restroom on a soft plush chaise lounge in the washing area. It’s the only place I could get to quickly that was private enough to bring myself back to inner calm. My head is all over the place. This is about more than just Jake. It’s everything. I’ve been holding it all in since the morning after my mother left. Her, my lack of ability to stay in control, the aching loneliness of Jake’s absence, and now seeing him. It’s all too much.Maybe it’s time I faced reality and looked for another job. I was stupid to think I could work here, only floors away from him. Acting like we don’t know each other anymore. I just can’t do it.I can’t handle the thought that any time I leave this floor I might see him. There’s a chance we could run into one another anywhere in this building, and I’ve just proven I can’t deal with it.Looking around at the contemporary furnish