Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Maddie: Yeah. I stress-baked extra cookies last week and decided to bring him some.
Chase: What kind of person makes out with her boyfriend at a pediatric clinic?
Maddie: IT. WAS. JUST. A. HUG!
I felt like Ross yelling at Rachel, “WE WERE ON A BREAK.”
Maddie: Wait, why am I defending myself to you?
Chase: Because I’m your fiancé.
Maddie: FAKE FIANCÉ.
Chase: Tell that to the real engagement photo shoot my mother had scheduled for us next week. I’ll email you the details in a bit.
“Gawwwd,” Nina drawled behind me at the top of her voice. “You even type messages loudly. Do you realize you whisper everything you write? You’re so basic.”
I dropped my pencil, before storming to the elevators. I slipped into a closing one, kicking my leg inside to pry the doors open, then hit the button leading to the top floor—Black & Co.’s management. I’d never set foot in there before, and the prospect of storming in raising hell was less than appealing. But I couldn’t take it anymore. It was obvious Chase was breaking all the rules in our agreement. I tapped my foot throughout the entire ride, imagining all the ways I was going to kill Chase when I finally got to him. Knife. Gun. Arson. The possibilities were endless, really.
The elevator dinged open. I purged myself out of it, advancing straight to the biggest fishbowl office on instinct.
“Miss!”
“Excuse me!”
“Do you have a pass?”
Stuttering receptionists and flustered secretaries were on my heels, stumbling behind me on their sensible wedges. A sleepy herd of suited men watched from the sidelines of the office, holding stacks of papers and files. I slapped the glass door to Chase’s office open with my palm.
“You!”
Bastard didn’t even look up from the documents he was reading. Just turned a page very slowly, making a show of frowning at whatever he was reading. I took it as an invitation to walk right in. Two receptionists popped up behind my shoulders.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Black; she just burst in—”
“—didn’t even see her name tag! Security’s on the way.”
“It’s fine.” He cut them off in a way that implied it wasn’t fine. “Leave.”
The two of them shared a confused look, then bowed their heads in unison and scurried out of his office. Chase finally looked up from his documents. He looked shockingly composed for someone who’d just gotten called out in the middle of his office.
“Miss Goldbloom, how may I be of help?”
I slammed the glass door behind me, refusing to take in the thrilling richness of his work environment. The chrome desk, huge Apple screen, floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Manhattan, and gray-and-white furniture.
“I—” I started, but he stopped me, lifting his palm up, then opened a drawer in his desk and retrieved a remote control he used to close the black shades in his office automatically. I blinked. Now we were alone and completely hidden from the world. His colleagues could see nothing, and I could only guess what they were thinking.
Office sex. Lord, I hated him and his games.
“You were saying?” He sat back, amusement flashing in his eyes. That was a good question. What was I saying? I shook my head.
“You’re taking advantage of the goodness of my heart. I told you we were done after that dinner. You have no business kissing me or agreeing to photo shoots with me.”
“I’ll walk Daisy every day.”
“Until when?” I scoffed.
“Until my dad dies,” he replied flatly.
I tried not to let the weight of his sentence sink into me but felt my shoulders slumping nonetheless. “Chase,” I said softly. “We both want him to live as much as he can. It’s not fair on both of us.”
“The hell with what we want—he has a couple months, at best,” he growled, looking away from me. “Less, probably.”
“This is not sustainable.” My voice was so quiet it sounded more like a breath.
“We don’t need to be sustainable. We’re not fucking plastic bags.”
“I would rather wrap one around my head than play house with you,” I muttered, immediately regretting my words. He was hurting. His entire being bled this fact. The way he talked about his dad, had looked at him from across the table over dinner.
Chase rose from his seat, smirking darkly at me. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying.”
“When you told Katie our breakup story, you had tears in your eyes. You’re not over me.” He leaned forward across his desk, only a breath away from putting his lips on mine. “However, contrary to your predictions, you will be under me.”
I felt my lower lip wobbling and crossed my arms over my chest. I wanted to get out of here. I wasn’t even entirely sure what had made me come to his office in the first place. Chase rounded his desk, every inch of him the cool businessman I loved to hate.