Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
My thighs are soaked once again. I’m going to have to masturbate before I can leave this room.
“Can we talk about this later?” I ask. “I have a little more than an hour to get ready, and you should see me right now.”
“If you don’t call me as soon as you’re done today, I will catch a flight there. I mean it. I want every single detail.”
I smile. “I’ll give them to you. Promise. But I really do need to go.”
“I have a client walking in the door right now, anyway. Love you. Drink your water.”
“Love you, too. Bye.”
“Bye.” I exhale harshly and check my phone. “Shit!”
There are three missed calls from my boss, and one voicemail. I spring to my feet and hit play.
“Hey, Aurora, it’s Charlie. I’m sorry to call you so late on a Friday night, but I need to talk to you as soon as you can give me a call back. Okay? Thanks. Call my cell, please.”
Blood pounds in my temples as I clear my throat. Then I hit Charlie’s name.
“Aurora, hi. Good morning,” he says almost instantly.
The sound of his voice piques my curiosity. It’s flatter than usual. Deeper. It’s without his usual addictive excitement and energy.
“Good morning,” I say, kicking off my heels. “I’m sorry I missed your calls.”
“It’s no problem. But thank you for calling me this morning.”
“Of course. I called you back as soon as I got your voicemail.”
He sighs. “I hate to ask this of you, but I don’t see another way.” He pauses, giving me enough time to full-out panic. “Is there any way you can return to Nashville today?”
What? “I’m flying back this evening after the conference.”
“I was hoping you could miss the conference and come back as early as you can this afternoon.” He blows out a heavy breath—the kind that someone holds when they’re about to break. “Aurora, my mother is in hospice.”
My heart drops. “Oh, Charlie. I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too. It all happened very suddenly. She had pneumonia last week, and we didn’t think it was that big of a deal. My sister called me a few days ago and told me that Mom has taken a turn for the worse. She’s in her eighties, and I knew her health was starting to deteriorate, so I informed management that I’d probably need to leave soon. But last night, my sister called and said hospice had been called, and I need to get back to Salt Lake City immediately.”
I sit again, tears gathering in my eyes. “I lost my parents a few years ago. I really am sorry. If you need anything—even an ear to listen—I’m here for you. Please know that.”
“I truly appreciate it. And I might take you up on that.”
“The offer stands indefinitely.”
“I’m leaving Nashville tomorrow afternoon,” he says. “I have no idea if or when I’ll return. But I need to pass the baton to someone, at least for the time being, and you’re the person most informed of our plans for the rebrand.”
“Okay.”
“So I’d really appreciate it if you could come back to the office—today, if at all possible—and let me go over a bunch of things with you.”
I swallow past a lump in my throat. “Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”
“I’m sorry to do this to you.”
“Don’t be sorry. Are you kidding me? I’m at this conference to help you, but if I’m more helpful to you there, then that’s where I’ll be.”
“You are the best, Aurora. I hope you know that.”
His words make me smile. “Thank you. You’ve been an excellent boss.”
“Thanks.”
I look around the room. “Let me get my things together and find a flight. I’ll text you my ETA as soon as I have it.”
“See you soon.”
“See you soon. Goodbye, Charlie.”
“Goodbye.”
I waste no time pulling up flight information and find a flight leaving in three hours. I get it booked, cancel my original ticket, and find Charlie’s name in my texts.
Me: I should be in the office by two thirty or three. I’ll keep you posted.
I take a breath, toss my phone on the bed, and head to the shower to wash off the most amazing night of my life.
First class has nothing on you, Columbus.
But now, it’s back to the real world.
Chapter Ten
Tate
“Ugh,” I groan, patting around on the bedside table for my phone.
My hand smacks an empty water bottle, sending it flying to the floor, before I finally locate my irritating device. I raise my head high enough to see the screen and click end on the alarm. Thank God.
“There are few things I hate more than alarms,” I say, smiling as I roll over to pull Kelly against me again. “But I guess we should—Kelly?”
The sheets are pulled back, and the pillow is still dented from her head, but she’s gone.
“Kelly?”
I sit up, wide awake. I listen closely for the sound of running water or her voice from the living room. Crickets.