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“Pres, it’s fine to be upset. And fuck the rules.”
“I’m not upset, okay?” My pitch rises, laced with frustration. “It happened, and we’ve moved on.”
“You’ve moved on,” he states. “I’m still processing.”
“Processing what?” I laugh. “The baby is gone. There’s nothing to process.”
Haden casts his gaze onto the floor as his eyes darken. I don’t understand why he holds onto this. I was carrying the baby, and my body is the failure, not his.
“Okay,” he utters. “But I want to discuss something with you over lunch.”
Haden and I rarely take lunch together. We are always too busy and usually our lunch meetings involve taking out important clients. Our schedules always seem to clash.
“I’m busy. I’m actually behind.”
“That’s why you have a team,” he snarls. Letting out a sigh, his face softens. “Please?”
“Fine.”
The answer satisfies him. Thank God! His need to spend time with me right now is getting on my nerves.
“Listen, Cassandra is arriving any minute now, so I’d love it if you can join me in my office.”
I let out a deep breath, forgetting about Cassandra, the Chief Editor of Indie Press, arriving today. Clint informed me that most of my afternoon will be spent with her. I am not in the mood to entertain, or even train someone, but perhaps I need the push to get my head into action.
An hour later, Haden calls me into his office. Reluctantly, I grab my mug, stopping at the kitchen for a coffee refill and running into Clint.
“So, word in the office is that Susan is banging the coffee cart guy.”
I shake the packet of sweetener. “The young guy, probably half her age?”
Clint nods, scanning the area to make sure no one can hear us. Susan worked in our finance team and sat only a few offices away.
“Her husband left her for his secretary. This is sort of payback. Susan said she’s having the best sex of her life. He gets her off like three times a night.”
“Don’t you think you should be focusing on work rather than someone else’s life?” I remind him. “I have to go.”
“Presley. You thrive on stuff like this. Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Clint. I mean it, get back to work.”
I walk out of the kitchen without another word. Clint’s gossiping has become tedious, and I no longer care for it. I have better things to think about than Susan getting laid three times a night.
Knocking on Haden’s door, I open it slowly, careful not to spill my coffee.
Haden stands, extending his hand to introduce our Indie Press Chief Editor.
“Cassandra Reid, please meet our Editor-in-Chief, Presley Cooper.”
Typical Haden to forget my proper surname.
“Presley Malone Cooper,” I correct him, much to his annoyance.
From behind, all I see is a perfectly straightened bob, just touching her chin. The dark brown hair sways as she turns around, only for me to meet the largest of eyes, a sea of blue, fixate on me.
It couldn’t be.
Sandy, as I knew her, went to the same college as me. We were the greatest of friends in the final year but had a fallout. I can’t quite remember why, I was too busy dating this guy, Kyle, who was a complete jerk. I sure know how to pick them.
