Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I have to admit, I felt so much better after the conversation with Doyle. Not once did a feeling of panic and fear overwhelm me, and I almost felt normal.
That’s all I want. I just want to feel normal and in control of my life again. I want to be able to go on dates like any other woman. I want to believe that not all men are out to hurt me.
Jesus, I just want my old life back.
“Miss Blakely!”
Startling at Mr. Vitale’s sudden appearance next to my desk, I let out a shriek. My hand flies up to cover my mouth, and I gasp from being ripped out of my thoughts.
Is the man trying to give me a freaking heart attack?
His intense gaze is locked on my face, and it feels like he’s trying to pry my deepest, darkest secrets from me with a single look.
Lowering my hand, I suck in a deep breath before saying, “Do you need something, sir?”
He stares at me for a moment longer, which makes me feel like squirming.
“It’s lunchtime. Order the chicken sandwich you got last week.”
“Yes, sir.”
I watch as he stalks back into his office before I slump back in my chair.
Jesus. The man is way too intense.
Scooting closer to my desk, I dial the number for the deli and place an order for two sandwiches.
Just as I end the call, the phone rings, and I quickly answer, “Mr. Vitale’s office, Samantha speaking.”
“Hey, it’s me,” Jenny says. “You sound so professional. How are things up there?”
I let out a sigh and relax back in my chair. “Ugh. I miss the admin department.”
“Yeah, I don’t envy you at all.”
I hear voices in the background and ask, “Are you out for lunch?”
“Yes. I’m at our favorite restaurant with a couple of the girls.”
I make a whining sound. “I’m jealous. Bring me a chocolate milkshake, and I’ll love you forever.”
She lets out a chuckle. “Okay, but as soon as Mr. Vitale’s office door opens, I’m gone. I don’t want to be in the line of fire.”
“Some friend you are,” I tease her.
It was nice hanging out with Jenny on Saturday. Instead of going to the movies, we ordered Chinese takeout and stayed in. I got her up to speed on everything she missed while she was on vacation, and she told me how Aiden proposed to her.
When she asked me to be her maid of honor, I almost cried.
“I’m just finishing my meal then I’ll be there with your milkshake.”
“Thank you.” I hear Mr. Vitale’s door open and quickly say, “Talk to you later.”
Ending the call, I turn my attention to my boss as he places a dry cleaning slip on my desk.
“Leave at four to collect my suits. Take them to my house and make sure they’re hung neatly in the walk-in closet,” he orders.
Oooh, I get to see where he lives.
Yeah, I’m nosy like that, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.
“Yes, sir.”
He disappears back into the chamber of wrath, and I pick up the slip and tuck it into my handbag.
The rest of the day proceeds at an unbearable fast pace, and I don’t even get time to drink half of the milkshake Jenny brought earlier.
As I leave the office at four, I feel victorious because not once did Mr. Vitale reprimand me for anything.
I’m totally taking it as a win that he’s asked me to pick up his laundry. It means he’s learning to trust me.
It takes me an hour to collect his suits, and when I take the stairs up to the front door, I realize I don’t have a key to get into the house.
“Shit.” My teeth tug at my bottom lip, and hoping he has a housekeeper, I knock.
When the door opens, I’m met by a burly looking man. “Yes?”
“I’m Mr. Vitale’s assistant.” I nod at the garment bags that are draped over my arm. “He asked me to collect his dry cleaning.”
“Right.” The man steps to the side, and when his phone rings, he gestures for me to enter the house before taking the call.
I walk into a massive open space that’s all gleaming white tiles and luxurious.
Holy shit.
My mouth drops open as I glance at the impressive chandelier, the marble statues of women, and a lounge chair I wouldn’t mind stealing.
I’m still staring at the foyer bathed in expensive décor when the man who opened the door says, “The main bedroom is on the third floor.”
“Oh, right. Thank you.”
When I walk toward a grand staircase, I notice the man doesn’t follow me.
Yay! Maybe I can explore a little.
I take the stairs to the second floor and quickly peek up and down the hallway. The walls are covered with beautiful black and gold wallpaper.
Not wanting to push my luck, I head up to the third floor and as I approach an open door, I feel like I’m intruding on forbidden ground.