Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 60131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Before leaving the car, I FaceTimed William and Charlotte’s cell phone.
Ta-la-la-la-la-laaaaa! Ta-la-la-la—
“Hello? Hello?” Harlow’s gorgeous face appeared onscreen, and I lost my thought. “Um, Mr. Dawson, I can’t see anything. Let me see if I can fix the settings.”
My cock stiffened as her lips moved, and I couldn’t help but envision the way she’d looked in bed this morning.
Thankfully, I left her room before she could see the effect she was having on me.
“Okay, okay.” She looked right at me. “I can see you now. Can you see me?”
“Yes.” I stared at her lips. “I can see you, Miss Hawthorne. Please show me my children.”
“Now?”
“No, whenever you feel like it.”
She bit her bottom lip and flipped the screen, revealing the Vogue photographer snapping pictures of William and Charlotte.
“Look up here for me, sweet babies!” She instructed. “That’s it! You’re so beautiful! I bet your Daddy is going to love these!”
My heart still clenched whenever I saw them, and I felt a primal urge to protect them at any cost. It also made me realize that I’d never understand how my mother and father could’ve ever abandoned me.
I’d never forgive them either.
“You can turn the camera back around now, Miss Hawthorne.”
She obliged and appeared on screen again.
“Is everything going well for your first day?” I asked without caring; I just wanted to see her lips one more time.
“It’s going fine, sir.” Her cheeks were red. “I do have one question, though.”
“Before you ask, is it something that you can’t find in the binder?”
“It is.”
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“Is it really necessary for me to use cloth diapers for the twins?” she asked. “Can I just run to Costco and get a bunch of disposable ones?”
I blinked.
“I’m assuming that maybe you didn’t know that these existed because you might be a little out of touch with the world, but William has pooped three times today.”
“And?”
“It would be a lot easier for me to throw his dirty diapers in the trash instead of washing them later. It probably would be a lot more sanitary for me, too…”
Silence.
“Are you there, Mr. Dawson?” She tilted her head to the side. “Can I go buy some paper diapers?”
“You can follow my instructions exactly how they’re written, or you can be replaced within the next five seconds.”
“I’ll hand wash the diarrhea diapers.”
“Thank you.” I ended the call and remained in my car.
I shut my eyes and listened to the fans’ boos for a little while longer.
Twenty minutes later, I swiped my pass at the entrance and rode the escalator to the executive level.
My two best friends and lifetime business partners, Denise and Brian, were sitting at the board table, welcoming me back to the life I’d long missed.
“Welcome back, Mr. Dawson!” “Hey, Mr. New Dad is back!’ “Good to see you again!”
I shook hands with the entire staff before taking a seat at the head of the table.
Before we brought in today’s parade of consultants for ways to turn the franchise around (and to stop the fans from wearing sad paper bags over their heads at the games), I wanted to break the ice.
“Does anyone have any good news?” I asked.
Taylor from Sales raised her hand.
“We’re all ears, Taylor.”
“My fiancé proposed last night and we’re getting married!”
“Oh wow!” “Congratulations!” “About time!”
“I meant good news about this organization,” I said. “Does anyone have something positive to tell me?”
Silence.
“Okay, then.” I refused to let anything ruin my first day back. “Let’s bring in the first consultant.”
Denise opened the door and motioned to someone in the hallway.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, “Please welcome Mr. Gantz of Haven Consults.”
We all applauded as the salt-and-pepper-haired man moved to the small stage.
“I’m going to cut straight to the chase and tell you exactly how you can go from 0-82 to the playoffs, with a rabid and excited fanbase to boot!” he spoke confidently. “You don’t need to spend millions on firms like mine or worry about advertisers.”
I leaned in closer.
“All of that is nonsense and playing by someone else’s game,” he said. “All the Brooklyn Jets need to do is get rid of the ghosts.”
“The what?” I asked.
“The ghosts,” he said, putting a front page ‘Cursed Arena’ article on the big screen. “Your team is cursed.”
“Please tell me we didn’t cut you a check for this yet.”
“Shhhh!” He stood up and shut the door. Then he walked behind the table and closed all the blinds. “We have to be very quiet so they won’t hear us talking about them.”
Denise shot me a look, and I shook my head.
“Years ago, long before you ever bought this team—” He wiggled his fingers like he was telling us a campfire story— “An entire construction crew vanished in the basement. They were never found, never accounted for, and rumor has it that the scribbled words in the basement, ‘You’ll never win until you pay our families’ was written right before they died.”