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It takes me far longer than it should to finally gather all my thoughts, and when I do, I want to slap myself for everything that just happened.
I cannot go on like this.
Not when I have a year to get through.
But I have no idea how I can change the way I react to him. I mean, short of wearing a blindfold at all times. And plugging my nose so I can’t smell him. Not to mention putting earplugs in so I can’t hear his voice.
Just cut your head off and be done with it.
“Oh my God,” I mutter to myself as I step into the gym. “Stop it. The man is not worth your damn time. Surely you can control yourself around him. Stop thinking about sitting on his lap and start thinking about the fact he stole your damn company. Oh, and the fact he’s an asshole.”
“Adeline.”
I spin at the sound of Jameson’s voice. “What?” It comes out snappy. The man should not sneak up on me like that.
I swear his lips twitch once. I also swear his eyes do something similar. But I can’t be absolutely sure because he moves straight onto what he came to say. “I need to leave at seven now.”
“Fine. Yes. Seven. I’ve got it. I’ll be ready.” Jesus, can he just stop invading me like this?
This time, I know his lips twitch.
The bastard is enjoying my disheveled state.
“Jameson, it’s far too early for this. I’m not good first thing in the morning. I need to run. Then I need coffee. After that, you can talk to me about whatever the hell you want.”
He continues watching me like he’s enjoying this.
He doesn’t reply to what I said. He simply turns and leaves.
I watch him exit, and goddamn he has a fine ass.
I hate him even more for that ass.
* * *
I runon the treadmill for an hour. I need every minute of that run. I also meditate during it because I need that too. After, I shower and dress for the day, taking longer with my hair and makeup than I should considering Jameson wants to leave at seven.
I’m delaying the inevitable because I know without a shadow of a doubt that being in his presence is going to make me behave in ways I don’t want to behave.
How I’ve gone from wanting to stab him every second of the day to wanting to sit on his lap in between stabbing him is beyond me, but here I am.
A text comes through as I’m leaving the bedroom.
Vanessa: I’m so sorry to do this to you today with all the stuff that happened overnight, but I’m not well this morning and will be late for work.
I call her. When she answers, I hear just how sick she is. “I’m sorry, Adeline. I hate doing this to you when you’re super busy.”
“Ness, stop. I can hear you’re not well. I don’t want you to come in today, okay? I don’t know what stuff happened overnight but whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. You just get better.” I purposely didn’t check social media or emails first thing today because I needed a break from it. I needed some quiet, peaceful time before the day unleashes itself on me.
“Oh my God, it’s not good. No, you’re going to need me today. I’ve taken drugs and am hoping they’ll kick in fast. I’m coming in.”
I don’t focus on what she said about things not being good. Instead, I focus on making her understand I want her to rest. “You sound like you’re at death’s door with a cold. Do not come to work. I’ll just send you straight home. Please rest so that you get better fast. If I need you for anything urgent, you can do it from home.” I have no intention of asking her to work while she’s not well, but I know she’ll feel better about staying home if she thinks I’ll call if needed.
She’s silent for a moment before agreeing. “Okay, but definitely call me if you need me. I’m here.”
“I know you are. Get better. Check in with me later to let me know you’re okay.”
We end the call and I pull up my social media.
