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"Yes."
"Look, about the biographies..."
“If that’s what this is about, I don't have any seconds to spare." He’d been in the meeting too. “I refuse to drop the biography section, and that’s that."
"Have you spoken to Diane?" Diane was our head of Human Resources.
"No, not yet. But I’ll instruct her to put out feelers for new writers."
"If you're sure."
"I am."
Jonathan hesitated in the doorway. He only did that when he didn't have the courage to tell me something up front.
"You agree with everyone else, I’m guessing?"
He cleared his throat. "I think you want to keep it running for the wrong reasons. It's been in your family for a long time. But things are different now. People's interests have changed."
"Good journalism will always sell."
"Tell that to the dozen or so publishing companies that have closed in the past few years alone."
"Jonathan, I won't waste one more minute discussing this with you. We're marching ahead with hiring new writers, and that's it."
"Fine. Are you coming into the office tomorrow?"
"Yes." I'd finally managed to find a nanny. Agatha was a sixty-year-old woman who insisted that she needed something to do now that she was retired, and her grandchildren were already grown. For now, she seemed a good fit, and it meant I could come to the office more often. I didn't like being an absentee CEO. The team rallied around me. If I wasn't around, motivation sank, as proven by the fact that two writers had left this month. If I’d been here, I could've convinced them to stay on. "I'm available over email for the rest of the day," I said. “I’m going home.”
We headed to the elevators, squeezing in with six others. Everyone was on their phone as it rushed down. Most people got off in the lobby. We had a good location for public transportation. It was one of the perks of being on Pearl Street. We didn’tneedto have the office here. The rent was exorbitant. But Whitley Publishing made history at this address. We belonged in this building.
My grandfather founded Whitley Industries decades ago ago. It had several branches: advertising, publishing, coffee, distillery, and biotech. After my father was in charge, he added a few more. Once the scandal about his double life surfaced, he moved to Australia. My grandfather was left to pick up the pieces. My brothers and half brothers gradually each took over a section of the company. Right now, Colton ran the biotech branch, Gabe the distillery, and Cade ran The Boston Coffee Expert. We were all doing well even though Dad had brought many of the companies to ruin. We’d succeeded despite the Whitley name not because of it.
I drove straight home. Agatha was there until six o'clock. I still hadn't managed to perfect my schedule. Ben slept sporadically, so I never knew if he’d be awake when I came home. But once he was old enough and developed more of a routine, I planned to organize my workday to be at the house for his post-afternoon nap and dinner. It was important to me to spend time with my son. I pulled up in front of the house. Getting out of the car, I heard a dog barking like his life depended on it.
"Becky." That was Penny's voice. I instantly zeroed in on her. "That's a squirrel. You've seen five squirrels today. Please calm down. You're upsetting the neighbors."
Fuck, she was cute, talking like that with a dog. She was gorgeous—her blonde hair was pulled over one shoulder, falling almost to her elbow.
She was wearing a short skirt, and it looked far too good on her. Then she bent at the waist. I bet I could see her...Spencer, get your shit together. You will not glance up your neighbor's skirt. You've got enough to deal with.But I couldn't look away from her.
"Need any help?" I called.
Several things happened at the same time. Becky reacted to my voice. The good part was that it seemed to take her attention away from the squirrel. The bad part was that she started sprinting toward me, and Penny clearly wasn't prepared for it. Next thing I knew, she was on the ground. Her skirt flew up, and I had a glimpse of her ass. It was fucking perfect.
"Ahh," she yelled. Becky pulled her forward on the concrete a foot or two before Penny let go of the leash. I bent down and immediately gripped it when Becky reached me and then yelled, "Sit," or whatever the fuck she was supposed to do now. "Behave." I gripped the leash strongly and walked over to Penny.
"Let me help you out," I said.
"Ouch."
Her knees, thighs, and elbows were red, and when I glanced at her eyes, I noticed they were watery and a beautiful shade of brown.
"Do you have a first aid kit?" I asked her. She was tall, but I still towered over her.
"There could be one somewhere, I just don't know where. I’ll look for it.”
"Let’s go to my place. It’s going to be faster. I'll set you up right away." She glanced up at me, shaking her head.
