Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I make flight arrangements on my phone, grateful to find a late flight leaving in two hours. I leave the room, stepping out of the way for a delivery guy with a paper-wrapped package before climbing on the elevator. While in the cab, I shoot an email to Deacon, apologizing for the short notice, explaining that I completely understand if he feels the need to seek legal action for breaking the contract, but my family needs me back in the city. I keep it professional and short.
As the wheels of the plane touch the tarmac at La Guardia, I imagine it’s only going to take about twenty years for me to forget that Gaige Ward ever existed at all. Thank God, I have a lot of other things to focus on.
Chapter 33
Gaige
My fingers are sore from drumming them on my thigh for countless hours. The arrangements were made. The package is marked as delivered, but she hasn’t come to me. She hasn’t knocked on my door. I made sure to include in the note that I was across the hall this time because the hotel couldn’t accommodate adjoining rooms.
She hasn’t stepped foot out of her room either and I’m sure I have a circle around my eye from constantly pressing it to the peephole in the door. She doesn’t answer the door when I give up on waiting and step across the hall and knock. I don’t hear a peep when I bang louder. She doesn’t even tell me to fuck off when I beg her to open the door.
She doesn’t show the next morning when the car arrives to take us to our appointment for the day, and I don’t get in the car either. I ask the driver to wait and head back inside, determined to kick her door in.
“Mr. Ward!” The front desk clerk waves at me as I stride toward the small bank of elevators.
“Yes,” I say as I approach, agitated at being stopped on my mission up to her.
At this point, I’m worried sick that something has happened. She’s fallen in the shower, or she has some debilitating illness that makes it impossible to answer her phone or the door.
“You’ve been listed as a secondary on Ms. Redmond’s room. A delivery man left this for her, but she checked out last night.”
“I’m sorry. What?”
“Ms. Redmond. Room 914? She checked out last night, and he was unable to deliver a package.” I follow the point of her finger.
It sits behind the desk, unopened.
Is that her answer?
Part of me says yes, but if she didn’t open it, then maybe no. If she saw it, she would understand.
“Are you able to make arrangements for me to have that shipped back?”
“To the company?”
“To my home,” I clarify.
“Of course, Mr. Ward.”
I spend the next twenty minutes making those arrangements, growing increasingly frustrated because this isn’t something they normally do and it takes more time than it should. Eventually, I step away with confirmation numbers and a guarantee that it will be at my condo within three business days.
My phone rings on my way back into my own room.
Deacon.
“Hello,” I snap.
“Ms. Redmond is breaking her contract with BBS.”
“Okay. You just found this out?”
“She sent an email last night.”
“And I’m just now hearing about this?”
“I’m fucking drowning right now, man. Little Deke has reflux. Do you know how irritable a newborn with reflux is? I haven’t slept in what feels like months.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him with sincerity.
I get the feeling I won’t be sleeping well any time soon either.
“I can work the rest of the contacts,” I assure him, but I know without a doubt, none of them will be fruitful. Leighton was right, these women have no interest in what we’re offering.
Deacon sighs. “My focus shifted when you guys were in Texas. The reality of having a female team shifted last week.”
“You told me last week to work hard in Georgia,” I growl, remembering that I begged him to let me in on the damn game plan. I had a feeling this wasn’t about building a damn female team. “What exactly is the plan now?”
“I was vetting Leighton Redmond for BBS.”
My stomach turns. If he tells me to go get her, I may cry. Not only have I lost her for myself, but I’ve lost her again for Blackbridge.
“I want her to be our liaison. We need help organizing you guys. Pam wants to cut hours, and I need someone knowledgeable, someone really good with handling difficult people, someone good with the media and calling people out on their bullshit. I need someone with integrity, and I knew she was the one when she walked out on Sandra Halen. Did you know she found that poor assistant of Halen’s a job with one of the other people you spoke with? He started work with them today.”