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On a typical weekday, there would be little time to paint, but today I made time. Tuesday’s were the slow days and the only days I didn’t need to go in to office early, there was nothing important on schedule.
My oil paints and acrylics filled up the room with their strong fumes. My lungs were immune to all of this by now—my ten years of practice can be thanked for that.
It’s such a mystery when it comes to getting hot for someone. There was so much about me that would kill her if she knew, but I couldn’t just stop myself from all of this now. I couldn’t just give her up.
Shaking myself from that thought, I got back to painting, but thanks to my overthinking, my brain was all shambled. There was no use in doing this.
“Fuck,” I scowled and walked out of the room, making sure to close the door.
With my rumpled thoughts, I had no choice but to get my ass in my study and do something.
Between the hard-on that started to grow because of her and the headache I was getting as I was thinking about her, I was tapped out. No use in painting now. I got dressed and headed to my home office.
Work is the most effective kind of diversion.
My phone buzzed. It’s a notification from Google.
JUST IN: PEOPLE’S MAGAZINE
Forbes has now named CEO Multi-billionaire, Dillon Xander as number 6 of ten on the world’s richest men list. Swipe to see all of his achievements.
Oh.
Well, congratulations to me.
I lifted my head up from the phone and examined the room, noting the presence of a familiar face.
“Dillon,” Arnoldo quipped. Ah, Arnoldo Reyes—the country’s best lawyer, in my opinion. Hiring him was the best move I’ve ever made, and I’ve made a lot of wonderful decisions in my life.
“Arnoldo,” I said, greeting him. “What brings you here today?”
“The Brown.co building plan. I went over it, and they’re trying to rob you out of your money and business,” he related in a fast and professional manner.
“How so? What have you found?”
“I got the building valuation done and went over all their legal terms and legality statements… nothing is worth more than five hundred thousand dollars.”
“What’s our possible outcome?”
“We buy it for what they’re selling or we call them out on their bullshit,” he said, his tone remaining unchanged and frank.
As simple as those options sounded, contractors and contracts have been drawn up for them since the start of the fiscal year, so backing out would waste a lot of time—time which is forever against me.
“We need a meeting with Brown.co, and you need to be there,” I stated.
“With all due respect,” he said and paused, “scheduling meetings is the job of your new assistant.” He scowled.
He’s such an ass. “You’re an asshole, Reyes. Just schedule the meeting.”
“You’re more of an asshole than I am,” he mumbled. I’ll always leave it to my good friends to curse me.
“Piss off,” I hissed. “Let’s go over the plan. Draft up the evidence we have, all the legal terms—everything, and have it sent to Ms. Willis so she can get the room ready.”
“Got it. Anything else you want done? Maybe move the earth a little further from the sun?” He joked.
“Let’s start with the fact that you came here—on your own, Reyes.”
“The day you stop acting like you don’t need people will be a good day for all of us.”
