Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Two old-fashioned please,” I tell the bartender before turning back to Sydney. “You’re disappointed in your dad?”
“A little, yeah. I don’t know… The longer I’m at the office, the more it feels like I don’t fit in there. I knew that my father was old-school, but I didn’t realize how…transactional everything was. I’m not sure he even has friends outside of work who can’t boost business for him in some way.”
I consider that as I pay for our drinks and Sydney leads the way back to the corner booth. Once we’re seated, I say, “But that’s something you could change, eventually. Your dad wants you to take over the company, right? And once you’re in charge, you can build a new company culture.”
She sighs, swirling her tiny black straw around in her drink. “Yeah, I could, I guess. But you know what they say in business school: Culture eats strategy for breakfast and culture is the hardest thing to change.”
“True,” I agree.
“And what if…”
“What if?” I prompt after a moment.
She looks up, her gaze troubled. “What if I don’t want to fight to change the culture at my father’s company? What if nothing about working there feels right? This summer, I thought I could put aside my reservations and be what my family needs me to be, but now…I’m not sure. That voice inside, telling me this isn’t where I belong or what I want to do with my one precious life, just keeps getting louder and louder.” She narrows her eyes on mine, “And it’s at least partly your fault.”
My brows lift. “My fault?”
“Yes,” she says, scooting closer, until her thigh presses against mine beneath the table. “This feels so right. It makes wrong things feel even more wrong.”
I put my arm around her shoulders, nestling her more firmly against my side. “Agreed. Not to change the subject, but I don’t think I can keep this from Adrian much longer. That also feels wrong. I was thinking of telling him this weekend. I initially wanted to wait until he knew the results of the DNA test, but that’s going to take at least two weeks, and I don’t think I can wait that long.”
Sydney pulls in a breath, letting it out in a rush. “Okay.”
“If you want to wait, we can wait.”
“No, I’m just dreading it. But you’re right. The longer we put it off, the weirder it’s going to feel. And at least it will be one uncomfortable thing off my plate. Then I’ll just have to figure out how to tell my father that not only am I dating one of his business partners, but I’m also seriously considering running away to live in the marsh with the swamp birds and butterflies.”
“Can I run with you?” I ask, loving the way she smiles at the thought.
“Yes, please.”
“Or you could find a company that aligns more with your values. Not to overstep, but I pride myself on putting the well-being of the people who will eventually be living in my buildings above the bottom line. Way above it. And I regularly give project managers time off to pursue other goals. Nigel went to Tibet for two months last year and Sierra took a sabbatical to build a yurt out of old soda bottles. I could absolutely find a way to give a valuable employee time off in the summers to roam the bog like the butterfly goddess she is.”
Her gaze softens. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not sure working for you would be a good idea, Gideon. I’d have to think about it, but I think I’d rather come home to you.”
“Yeah, I’d like that, too,” I say, my throat tight with emotion.
I’m about to say it, to tell her that I’m falling in love with her, when my cell dings. “Sorry,” I apologize, “but that might be Mitch, checking in on the Coney Island project. I promised him I’d be available to chat tonight in case he couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning at the office. If it is, I’ll tell him I’ll call him later, after you head home. I just need to touch base really quick.”
But when I check my phone, it isn’t Mitch.
It’s Derrick the doorman with some unexpected news.
I grunt, perplexed.
“What is it?” Sydney asks.
“Apparently, my ex was just at my building and left a floral arrangement at the front desk. Derrick wants to know if I’d like him to take it up to the apartment for me.”
She hums beneath her breath. “I take it she doesn’t usually send flowers when she’s in town?”
“Never,” I say. “One time she threw a vase at me when we were married, but it was empty at the time.”
Sydney’s eyes widen. “Wow. Were you a completely different person back then? Because, honestly, I can’t imagine you doing anything that would make me mad enough to throw something at you. Especially something capable of doing real damage.”