Chapter 20
Gabriel
The car pulls into the curb and I open the door.
“Have a nice day,” Mark says as I climb out of the car.
“You too.”
I walk in through the front doors of the Ferrara building and stride to the elevator. Roderick the attendant gives me a polite nod as he pushes the button. “Good morning, Mr. Ferrara.”
“Morning.”
I stare at the doors as I straighten my tie, I can feel all eyes on me as I wait.
Hurry up.
“Beautiful day today,” Roderick says, trying to make polite conversation.
“It is.
Why is this elevator so slow?
“Looking forward to getting to work today, sir?”
My unimpressed eyes rise to meet his. “Why are you so chatty?”
“Oh.” He gives me a lopsided smile. “I think it makes things less awkward.”
My eyes hold his. I disagree.”
The doors open and I walk past him into it and turn toward the front, I see his face fall as the doors
close.
Ugh, every morning he annoys me with his perky can–do attitude.
I don’t want to talk to you.
12:30
Courted bra hupare After Divorce
Chapter 20
Fuck off.
I push the button and begin the climb to the top floor, the elevator stops on level three and I exhale
heavily.
The doors open and two men are waiting to get in, their faces fall when they see me and I raise an
eyebrow.
“Sorry, Mr. Ferrara.” They stay where they are.
I push the button to close the doors. I need a private elevator to this godforsaken place.
Once upon a time I would get here earlier and train before work, I haven’t done that since…
I run at home now before I come, the urge to get into the office early has left along with Miss Coleman. It’s no fun getting dressed in front of Greg. In fact, it’s no fun with Greg at all.
He’s the most boring person I’ve ever met. Actually, the entire office is boring now.
I’ve always been a workaholic, prided myself for my dedication to Ferrara Media.
But lately… I hate coming here.
I hate walking past her empty desk, I hate that nobody rolls their eyes at me or talks back and gives me cheek. I hate that I can’t feel her eyes on me as I get dressed. I hate that I don’t feel my dick tingle
when she chews the end of her pen.
I hate that she left me.
The doors open and I walk through reception. “Good morning, Mr.
Ferrara.”
“No visitors today.”
“Yes, sir.”
I open the doors and walk through the desks, I see a few people standing and talking in the photocopier room and my blood boils, what do they think this is?
I march over, their faces fall when they see me. This isn’t a tea party.
Courted by a Illimaire After vorre
Chapter 20
Get back to work.”
“Yes, sir.” They scatter like mice.
I walk into my office, slam the door, throw my briefcase onto the table and fall into my chair.
This place is fucking ruined.
Violet
Debbie’s wide eyes hold mine. “Twins?”
“Uh–huh.”
“Like twin twins, like two babies twins?”
“Yep.”
“Hmm.” Deb has been shocked to silence, she sips her coffee as she chooses her next words carefully. “Well… This is great,” she lies.
I stare at her deadpan. “And how is this great?”
“Well.” She holds her hands up all animated like. “Your family is done, you can stop after this if you
want.”
“I’ll be stopping, one hundred percent I’ll be stopping.” I sip my stupid decaf coffee as I think, even my coffee is ruined now. “A household where the children outnumber the adults is… “Busy.” Deb cuts me off. “You’ll be busy.” I nod, not wanting to be a downer.
“Oh my gosh, I saw the cutest thing in the shop on the way here. I’m getting it for you on the way out.”
“What is it?”
“A memory box.”
“What’s that?” I frown.
*You know, like a cute little box that you put memorabilia in for your pregnancy. Your ultrasound pictures and any little notes or cards you get along the way.”
Chapter 20
I don’t want a memory box.
“Why not?”
“Because the way I’m feeling, all I want to write in it is how this is all so unfair and I don’t want my
child… “Children.” Deb cuts me off.
“Ugh, children to ever find out that I was crushing on my boss. They can never know about Gabriel and our one–night stand.”
“You are not fatal attraction.” She rolls her eyes. You’re so dramatic.”
I sip my coffee, annoyed that she’s right, I am so overdramatic at the moment, I can feel mys doing it but can’t seem to stop.
“Fine, I’ll buy you two. One for the kids to find with all the cute fluffy stuff, and the other memory box a dumping ground for your heartbreak crap.”
“Why would I want a dumping ground for my heartbreak?”
“It will be therapeutic to write everything down and when you’re past this stage of your life and happily in love, you can throw this one out. Nobody will ever know and the kids will still have their fluffy feel–good memory box to look through.”
“Maybe.” I sigh, distracted.
“Every time you put something in the happy memory box, you need to put something in the dumpster fire box.”
I smile, something about that name tickles my fancy. “We’re calling it a dumpster fire box?”
“Why not? Your love life is a complete dumpster fire, let’s be honest,” she mutters dryly.
I giggle and hold my coffee cup up to cheers her. “You’ve got that right.”
The afternoon glow begins to bounce off the water and I smile. My favorite part of the day is here. I grab my notepad and pen and slide the glass door open. “You coming out, Buds?” I call.
My toffee–colored fluffball comes toddling down the stairs, life is bliss, I have a dog now. Buddy is the cutest thing that I never knew I needed. I went to the shelter to get a puppy and came home with an old man, not that I’m complaining, he’s perfect in every way. We wander down the stairs and sit.
horaire After Divorce
Chapter 20
The sun setting over the lake is magical and one of the main reasons I bought this house. Although small and quaint, my home is like a fairy tale, filled with character and to–do projects. It’s a
renovator’s delight.
My dream home.
As soon as I saw it I knew that I had to make it mine. Three acres of land situated on a point of the lake with one–hundred–and–eighty–degree water views on three sides. There’s a long, sweeping driveway lined with the most beautiful oak trees you have ever seen, and one day I’ll save up
nough money to do a proper drive; for the moment it’s dirt road.
At the front of the house is a sweeping veranda, a separate garage, and a garden, then the back of the house is all glass. It’s like a Swiss chalet with the upstairs inside the shingle roof with bear** ful arbor windows.
But the real magic of the house is the private wharf.
My very own private piece of paradise. You walk out of my back sliding glass doors and onto the veranda, down six steps, and then I’m on the wharf looking straight over the lake.
I have a deck chair and I sit out here every afternoon and watch the sun set over the water. For now I drink tea, but I can imagine having an afternoon glass of wine while the children play.
I put my hand protectively over my stomach. I’m six months pregnant.
And life is good.
My dumpster fire box has worked a treat and Deb was right, venting on paper and putting it into the box is cathartic. Lately, I’ve turned my venting into poetry. I just write whatever whenever and none of it makes sense, but somehow it makes me feel better. As if releasing all the negativity from inside makes room for all the joy.
I open my notepad and chew on my pen while I think, what will I write today? I think for a moment.
I can forgive him for not loving me. What I can’t forgive is myself, for ever believing that he could.
I close the notepad and the evening breeze whips my hair around, the birds begin to chirp as the beautiful pink glow lights up the sky. It really is a sight to behold.
The magic is here…
Gabriel
12:30
Chapter 20
THE
The sound of the engines roar around the circuit, the car pulls in and the pit crew jump into action.
Monaco, the Grand Prix.
I’m in the marquee that’s overlooking the track. “Here you go, sir.” The waiter delivers my scotch on
a tray.
“Thank you.” The atmosphere is electric, the crowd huge with beautiful people everywhere you look.
where are you based?” the beautiful blonde asks.
“New York.”
“My favorite city in the world.”
“We have something in common.” I raise my glass.
“I’m sure we have a lot in common.” She gives me a sexy smile and I look over her shoulder and see
the unmistakable auburn hair.
Is that…..
I watch the woman from behind, wearing a red dress and laughing as she talks to someone. My
heart skips a beat.
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