Page 337 of Boardroom Bride


Font Size:  

I snort. “See the light? What are you, a fucking prophet now?”

Connor chuckles. “I just mean that it’s time you stopped the path of self-destruction you were on.”

I roll my eyes. He acts like he’s so wise, but it’s his stupid idea that got me into this mess in the first place. But then I sigh. I can’t really be mad because if it weren’t for him, I never would have met Cara in the first place.

“Well, your plan backfired,” I say. “But that’s okay. If nothing else, I realized you’re right. And I fucking love her, dude. How crazy is that?”

Connor smiles. “I’d say I never thought I’d see the day, but…”

“Okay, smart ass. You were right about Cara being the girl for me, but you’re brilliant idea still landed me in hot water.” I grin anyway. “But I have a plan. I’m going to get her back.”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Tell me more.”

I start telling him some of the plans I’m putting in place, but stop when my phone blinks and vibrates on my desk. I pick it up and stare at the screen.

Cara.

I let it go to voicemail.

“What the fuck, man?” Connor asks. “You sure have a funny way of trying to win a girl back.”

I shake my head, a smile curving my lips. “Wrong, genius. The next time I talk to Cara, it’s going to be face to face. None of this pussy over the phone bullshit.”

Then I finish filling him in on my plans. When I’m done, he leans back in his chair and lets out a low whistle.

“That takes some serious balls, dude.”

I shrug. “Go big or go home.”

Connor laughs, shaking his head. “Good luck, man. Good luck.”

I nod my thanks. Because I’m sure going to fucking need it.

Cara

Hangovers aren’t fun.

Getting drunk and acting like a depressed mess is kinda liberating for awhile, I guess, but the world doesn’t stop turning because you’re feeling sorry for yourself. Which means that, the first thing I did after waking up in the morning, was take a cold shower and get dressed for work. After all, Lust Muscle isn’t going to run itself.

Even though Renee tucked me into bed, promising me that she’d allow me to call Liam in the morning, I quickly realized that I couldn’t do it sober. She left my phone in my bed stand and, despite looking at Liam’s number for an eternity, I eventually gave up on it.

It’s 10 am now, and I haven’t picked up my phone since I left the apartment. I’m trying to focus on going through the mountain of paperwork that has piled up on my desk, but it’s almost impossible to do so. I’m hungover and, more than just that, I’m feeling embarrassed.

Liam is probably still mad with me, and I can’t just call him out of the blue. After all, I said some harsh things. Can I blame him if he’s pissed at me? I guess I can’t, especially because I’m pissed at myself for acting like such a bitch. And the worst thing is, I can’t stop thinking of that. It’s like these thoughts are a scratched recorded, repeating themselves over and over again.

“Cara, there’s someone here for you,” I hear my assistant’s voice coming from the intercom, derailing my train of thought.

“Whoever it is, I’m not seeing any clients today,” I reply, pressing the blinking red button on my old fashioned intercom. I get back to my paperwork, fairly confident that I won’t get any more interruptions, but two seconds later the door to my office swings open with a loud noise.

I raise my head and look toward the noise, blinking as I try to figure out who’d break in here like that. Ah, what am I saying? The answer to that couldn’t be any more self-evident.

The one and only, Misty Lane.

She has her hair tied up in a bun, and there’s a smile on her face; instead of looking like an alcoholic mess, this time she just looks… well, she just looks like a mess. From inside her pink purse, Cupcake is looking at me with his kind but lazy eyes.

“Cara,” Misty greets me with a nod, walking toward my desk and sitting in front of me. Surprisingly, she isn’t walking erratically and her speech isn’t slurred. I think this is the first time in my life that I’m meeting Sober Misty. Which, now that I think about it, is kinda weird.

“What are you doing here, Misty?” I ask her, my headache growing tenfold with her presence. Despite knowing that she was just playing a role, Misty really turned out to be a major pain in the ass. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to see her ever again. But now here she is, as sober as a judge.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com