Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“It’s not like I told him to scram.” Setting both bagel and coffee on the edge of Duncan’s desk, I rubbed the back of my neck. My tightly coiled muscles wanted to argue that I pretty much had told Ambrose to go, and I didn’t have the best rebuttal. “It’s not that simple. He’s responsible for the best show on television, and the bigwigs want to move it to Atlanta for filming. He’s the one being all stubborn, wanting to put us—me—first.”
“Imagine that.” Duncan whistled low.
“I’m a bad bet for a relationship. You both said it.” I pointed at them. “Numerous times.”
“Hey. Whoa. I did not say that.” Duncan held up his hands. “You’re the one who never wanted a person in your life like that. You’re one of the best people I know, man.”
“Anyone would be lucky to have you as a partner,” Cash added, making me have to swallow hard, but luckily he tacked on, “Assuming they could put up with your smartass.”
“Apparently, Ambrose can.” Duncan made a show of mock surprise, marveling like he’d found a diamond in a mud puddle. “Lock that man down.”
“He wants me to come with him to Atlanta,” I said miserably, moving my chair farther away from the desk like that might help. Hell, that window was starting to look awfully tempting as an escape route from this conversation.
“Wow. He’s changed your views on relationships, and he wants more of your company? And you told him to go without you?” Duncan ticked off points like he was preparing one of his security-plan pitches.
“I said…well, I didn’t say no. I just…froze. I don’t want to be a kept guy.”
“You seriously think I can’t find you contracts in Atlanta? What’s the real issue?” Duncan was in SEAL lieutenant mode now, cutting right past all my bullshit. Unfortunately, I didn’t quite know myself. I hadn’t exactly shoved Ambrose away, but I sure hadn’t pulled him closer either.
“I can’t up and move for…” I trailed off. Love. I couldn’t move for love. But this wasn’t love. Was it? “Oh shit,” I groaned and picked my coffee back up.
“As the reigning champion of uprooting your life after a week, allow me to say sure you can.” Cash grinned and lightly duffed me with his ball cap. “And besides, are they moving the show tomorrow? These things take time, right?”
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I guess I could ask him for some time to decide.”
“Because you’ve got doubts?” Duncan tilted his head.
“In myself. Not him. I keep waiting for him to wise up…”
“What are you going to do if he doesn’t?” Cash sounded as curious as Duncan looked. Old gossiping biddies, both of them. And fuck. That was exactly what I’d been doing. Waiting for Ambrose to realize he could do far better than me. And I didn’t much care for being across the country when he decided that. But Cash had a point. What if Ambrose never did get sick of me? What then? Was I, Chief Harley Burton, going to turn tail and run simply because I was scared?
Was I truly going to let Ambrose go? Sweat trickled down my back and my hands went clammy. Hell. I had to fix this. I was a fixer, right? That was what Cash always said. I had to believe I could fix this too. I inhaled sharply, then forced myself to meet Duncan’s gaze. “I might need the afternoon off.”
“Might.” He nodded like he actually needed time to consider my request. But before he could put me out of my misery, a knock sounded at the door Cash had closed behind him. Avery popped his head in.
“Uh…LT?”
“Yes, Avery? And, remember, you can call me Duncan.”
“Yes, Mr. Lubov.” Avery’s impish grin made him look even younger than he actually was. I supposed I’d been as young as him when I’d enlisted, but I’d had a chance to stay in. Grow up some. Looking at Avery made my chest hurt. Avery, and guys like him, were exactly why I’d wanted to start this company, why I’d pushed Duncan on the idea. And if nothing else, I was proud of what we were building here.
Oh. Wait. Why the heck was I acting like I had nothing to bring to the table with Ambrose? I had a business to take pride in, and Ambrose didn’t seem to care much about our class differences. “I’m also the guy who helped you fix a roof.” He was. He’d shown me again and again who he was. Now it was time to show him who I was.
I stood, intending to slip by Avery, but he frowned at me. “It’s about you.”
“Me?”
“Someone’s in trouble…” Cash said in a singsong under his breath.
“Mr. Sterling is here. The head guy from the show? With the dog? He wants to see you.”