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“Considering my son is a workaholic much like your dear old father, an impromptu visit wouldn’t hurt. Besides, I just spoke to him to try to convince him to come to dinner, but of course, he has some woman he probably has to pursue.”

I laugh at her comment. “A workaholic playboy, I’m sure Uncle Rocky is proud.”

“Don’t even start,” she growls, jokingly. “I’ll text you our address, and don’t forget to go see him. Someone needs to knock some sense into that man. Perhaps it’ll be you.”

“I highly doubt that, but sure, I’ll drop by his office in about an hour.”

Not long after we end our call, my phone beeps with all the details Aunt Nikki promised. The office building is all the way downtown, and despite my reluctance to visit Will since I haven’t seen him in forever, I hop on the subway and make my way toward his office.

The large silver building is tall amongst the older and historic buildings surrounding it. Rechecking the address, I enter the building and find the elevator.

Inside the confined area, I press the button to the twentieth floor when my phone pings.

Austin: I don’t know how long I can do this for.

Before the doors close, someone steps in, standing at the opposite end of me. My heart sinks at Austin’s text, my stomach feeling sick at the thought of us ending at this moment. The conversation with Andy comes to mind. Eventually, we’ll grow apart, but it’s too soon. Surely, we owe it to each other to at least try for a bit longer before we completely call it quits.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I hang my head, trying to ease the unwanted hardening of my stomach. I begin to type, only to erase the message. No matter what I want to say, it feels like it comes out wrong.

This is not how we should end.

Taking a deep breath, my eyes wander to the shoes and perfectly tailored pants beside me. The gentleman’s hand is tucked into his pants’ pocket, his watch notable as my dad has a similar one. His scent, a rather intoxicating aftershave, makes me want to check him out, but I keep my head down for fear of being caught.

The door pings on the nineteenth floor as he steps out, allowing me only to see the back of him. His tall stature, dressed in a business suit, is quite sexy. Perhaps I’ve been around college boys for too long—ripped jeans and T-shirts with crude slogans seem rather unappealing.

“If you’re here for an interview, which I assume you are, you may want to make sure you smile and not be caught on your phone.”

I lift my head as the door closes, unable to catch his face. What an asshole! I take it all back. Men, in general, are pigs. Right now, Austin is one of them since he can’t even make an effort to come see me and quite possibly is breaking up with me via text message.

When I exit the elevator, I ask the receptionist to use the restroom to freshen up. Inside the very clean and modern restroom, I stare into the mirror.

My hair has grown out this past year, the length falling past my bra strap. Running my hands through it, I tousle it to the side as I continue to glance at myself.

What the hell am I going to talk about? I haven’t seen Will since forever. I was a kid, no doubt tormenting him as I always did. We have such a big age difference. I think he’s close to thirty and most likely have nothing in common besides family. I can bring up his unstable love life at Aunt Nikki’s request, but wouldn’t that be awkward? As if he needs a nineteen-year-old girl giving him advice, well, almost nineteen in just one week.

Exiting the restroom, I wait in the reception area.

“Miss, you can wait in Mr. Romano’s office. He shan’t be long.”

I smile politely, admiring her British accent. They always sound fancy and educated no matter what they say.

Following her into the office, the glass windows with views of the city immediately catch my attention. It reminds me a lot of Dad’s office with an oversized glass desk and leather chair. Everything is strategically placed, and not a single thing looks out of place. From listening to my parents, I think he runs some tech companies and creates apps. I probably should’ve asked this, so I’d have something to talk about.

The sound of a voice echoes behind the door. “I don’t care what it takes, either wrap up the deal or consider yourself done.”

Ouch.

“You have until close of business tomorrow,” the voice continues, “Uh-huh… listen, I need to call you back.”

With my back toward him, I close my eyes then force a smile, spinning around. My eyes fall onto the leather shoes I saw inside the elevator, the ones that belonged to the asshole who commented somewhat prematurely on my phone behavior. Slowly, I drag my eyes upward past his navy-blue pants until I reach his belt, realizing my stare has lingered too long. I snap my head up until our eyes lock.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Edwards.” His gaze is unwavering, making me slightly uncomfortable.

Will has changed so much since I last saw him, a man with very defined features and dark hair like his father’s. The style is modern and polished and not lathered in product like some men I know.

I don’t recall the strong jawline or how his cornflower blue eyes hold so much depth. He has aged so much, or perhaps being in the presence of a man in his thirties is vastly different to college boys I’m surrounded by all day long.

I’ve never seen him in a business suit, remembering the last time we saw each other, he must have still been in college, and his wardrobe consisted of jeans and tees.

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