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It started with Ava and her not-so-subtle reminder about dinner tomorrow night. She even went on and on about the lobster, which was difficult to ignore. Austin is a great cook, and it’s been a while since I ate his specialty. In the end, I told her to stop bugging me, I’ll be there, and that’s that.
Then, the host of the convention I attended last minute was conveniently named Addison. Again, trivial things but nevertheless a constant reminder.
It didn’t stop there.
It was a late evening last night when Mom called to inform me that the sequel to our bestselling novel was completed. Normally, I don’t get involved during the process of any manuscripts being reviewed at the early stages. Yet, this novel is bestselling worldwide. The revenue, and interest, are beyond anything we’ve ever seen. Only a few hours ago, we were contacted by a big production company to write a screenplay to bring it to film.
The pre-orders on the sequel have already exceeded our expectations. So, it’s imperative this book hits the reader’s expectations.
Mom mentioned the book is ready to go to beta readers, a group of young and older women whose opinions and feedback is what the author and Mom’s editorial team look for.
But I knew who the perfect person would be to give their opinion. The person who enjoyed the book enough to take note from it then touched herself inside her bedroom while I waited patiently outside.
“The pleasure is all mine…”
So, I caved, sending her a text but not without drinking two glasses of bourbon to talk myself out of it. I wanted to talk about yesterday morning, and if it weren’t for my idiotic brother interrupting us, perhaps there would’ve been a different outcome.
An outcome that plays in my head like a sick fantasy. How sweet the innocent Addison Edwards will taste with my tongue buried between her legs as she begs me to make her come.
The pilot announces our descent, and within an hour and a half, I’m back inside my office—no rest for the wicked. By the late afternoon, I’m barely managing to control my anger. It’s another exhausting day of incompetent idiots trying to prove they deserve a pay raise for their efforts.
I’ve been staring at the spreadsheet again for a solid hour, trying to understand how employees who have degrees in accounting are giving me numbers that make absolutely no sense.
I hear the click of heels and the familiar pace that belongs to my mother down the hall. There’s a soft knock on the door though she walks in anyway.
“Your father has just flown to San Francisco. I’ll be joining him tomorrow,” Mom informs me while typing something quickly on her phone.
“Do you need me to fly up for this meeting as well?”
“No, you stay here.” I hear the exhaustion in her voice. “You manage these people better than your father. His patience is wearing incredibly thin.”
“And so is mine, dear mother.”
“Masen,” she murmurs, glancing at me with her typical concerned face. “I always say this to your father, and I’ll say this to you again. You must learn to control your temper. I understand that things don’t always work out the way you think they should, but everyone is fighting their own battles, ones we may not know about.”
I tilt my head to the left, then the right, cracking my neck to alleviate the pressure.
“When people are employed with our company, I don’t care about their battles. They’re paid to work for us. End of story.”
Mom lets out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t raise you to be that type of boy, Masen.”
“Man, mother, not boy,” I correct her but soften my tone since my arrogance is upsetting her. “Just in case you’re forgetting.”
“Of course,” she continues with a smile. “A man who bailed early for a booty call the other night.”
I press my lips together flatly. “Right, yeah, I forgot.”
We speak for a little while longer before she leaves, but not without reminding me about an event on Saturday night. It’s for charity, and just before she steps out, she leaves a not-so-subtle reminder to bring a date.
The office is deserted tonight, and everyone leaves for the day except the janitors doing their job. My phone continues to ping with notifications, but I choose to ignore them since they weren’t who I was expecting.
Why the fuck does this bother me so much?
Masen Cooper doesn’t chase after women, nor do I beg for anything. Surely, it’s just my ego taking a massive hit right now.
I swivel my chair to stand up, moving toward the large window. The sun is setting in the distance as I watch from my office. My frustration over my unfocused headspace disappears, if only for a moment. Then, a sound catches my attention. I assume it’s the janitors, so I don’t bother to turn around until the sound is of a throat clearing.
My shoulders turn with my head following only to see Addison standing at the door. The sight of her stirs this unknown feeling, something I can’t decipher. I’m surprised, or more so curious as to why she’s paying me a visit.
