“You can be my eyes and ears,” he explains. Shrugging, he adds, “Plus, my father is interested to know who I hired as my publicist. Best to get it out of the way as early as possible.”
“Oh, okay.” A question pops up. I blurt it out before I can think better of it. “Will I be your plus-one?”
I wait for the teasing twist in his features and his inevitable flirtation.
Neither happens.
His face remains a bossy mask of indifference.
“No. I have a date,” he drawls, cold and swift. “I’ll have your name added to the guest list.”
My nails bite into my palm as I unintentionally ball my hand at him bringing a date tonight. Hiding the tremble, I answer in a small voice, “Sounds good. I’ll be there.”
“Are we done for today?”
“Yeah, we are.” Gathering my things, I stand up and leave.
He gave me my wish.
Yet I’m not the least bit happy.
Chapter Seventeen
Nathan
I’m impressed by how thorough Arya is in her research, as I read the doc she shared about the board. Every line is useful. She’s even highlighted the parts I can easily bring up in a conversation. Marked topics as sensitive that I should steer clear of. Mentioned things I can help them with to get in their good graces.
Too bad it’s a waste of time because I don’t plan to use any of it.
I lied when I told her that I hadn’t made efforts to gain the shareholders’ trust. I had done it long before I became the CEO, and I learned my lesson the hard way.
Those old men are set in their ways.
Letting me in their fold will be their downfall.
Setting down my phone, I peruse the tiny café from my corner in the shaded booth. It’s brimming with people with boring nine-to-five jobs. Despite the shadows under their eyes from giving their all to a corporation that doesn’t give a fuck about them past their duties, they wear smiles on their faces.They sip on their teas and chitchat. Laugh at gossip that they’ll forget about as soon as they reach home.
Tomorrow, they’ll repeat the grind with the goal of achieving more.
Money. Recognition. Fame.
A better life.
Little do they realize thatthisis the ‘better’ they’re searching for.
I envy their simple, mundane lives. I’m not being ungrateful. I know the unflinching truth. Having everything at the tip of my finger hasn’t brought me happiness. It’s stolen my peace. My sanity.
The grass is always greener on the other side. What sets me apart from these people is the materialistic things I can buy. The joy only lasts for a minute.
The creaking noise of the door opening pulls my focus to the middle-aged woman stepping inside. She looks healthier than the last time I saw her.
Reuniting with your son would do that.
Instead of calling her over, I study her features as she nervously looks around. She’s dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans with her hair thrown in a bun.
She fidgets, unable to locate me.
Slipping out of the booth, I strut toward her. “Sonya.”
