Without a word, he stands there inspecting me, as if he’s trying to remember what my body looked like naked on his hotel room bed. “Enjoy your day, Mia Bluff,” he finally says with a smile, before removing his foot from the door.
Once he’s gone, I close the door and press my back to it.
What a jerk! I can’t believe I let that guy woo me, then bed me.
It seems he’s formed quite the negative opinion of my family. Unfortunately, I can’t change what everyone in the world thinks about us. But…maybe changing the mind of one person is a start. Maybe this can be my way of helping the company—shedding a positive light on our family name.
I pull the door to my father’s office back open and walk briskly past the assistant’s desk to the elevator. The door is slowly closing, but I shove my hand in the way, stopping it just in time. It slides back open and I’m face to face with the Sawyer. “Hi,” I say, awkwardly, “I was wondering if you have lunch plans today?”
My heart gallops in my chest as I anticipate his response. Though I can't imagine he’d shoot me down. I’m young, fit, attractive, and he has no idea that I’m the girl he just bashed minutes ago. Besides, we had sex. That alone warrants a meal.
He places a finger on the eighth-floor button but doesn’t press it. With his dark eyes locked on mine, he shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve actually got a lot of work today, Mia. So, if you wouldn’t mind…” He presses the button and drops his arm at his side.
“Oh,” is all I can say. I take a step back when the door starts to close. Staring ahead until he’s gone and all that’s looking back at me is the stainless-steel door.
“Oh, no, he did not just shut the door on me!” I mutter under my breath, agitated and outraged. My arms cross over my chest, toes tapping on the floor of the hallway. I stand there, waiting for the door to slide back open—thinking that this had to have been some sort of mistake.
When it doesn’t, heat radiates through me, pooling in my cheeks and offering me a feeling I’m not foreign to. I might not be those things that he said about me, but I’ve never been good with rejection. It seems the new guy has offered up a challenge.
Well, Asshole, challenge accepted.
Chapter Four
Sawyer
As soon as the elevator door closes, my eyes do the same. My head rests back on the cold, stainless-steel wall of the four-by-four cubicle I’m enclosed in. This is bad.
Opening my eyes, I look down at the ring on my finger, wondering if she saw it—questioning why I’m even wearing it. On my good days, I take it off. Hang it on the little elephant ring holder in the bathroom that she always hung her rings on. I should have never even kept that holder. It’s just a constant reminder that she’s gone. First thing in the morning when I brush my teeth and wash my face, I see it.
On the not so good days, I put on my wedding band and pretend. Pretend she’s still here. Go about my day, not thinking about the fact that I’ll go home to an empty apartment and eat another dinner alone.
Today was one of those days. What started off as a bad morning, was supposed to be a day of pretending, just so I could have a moment of happiness in this completely fucked-up world.
The elevator beeps before the doors slide open. I’m greeted by a gorgeous blonde with wavy locks that hang just below her pebbled nipples that threaten to break through the see-through fabric of her white t-shirt dress. She smiles, but I don’t reciprocate. Normally, I would. I’d step aside and ride a few more floors, just to try and talk her into my bed. Not today. It’s only nine a.m. and I’m already defeated and ready to throw in the towel on this day.
I step past her and don’t look back. My mind immediately thinking about Mia. Mia Bluff. What an odd last name. I’m surprised I even remembered it. I’ve had more than a dozen bodies under me since Taylor, and Mia is the only name I recall.
Maybe coming to Santa Monica was a mistake. Am I foolish to think that moving across the country can mend my broken heart?
My first night here and I immediately shack up with the first girl I see in a bar. As soon as I saw her long legs, I knew I had to climb between them.
Karma hates me. It’s just my luck that I’d end up working in the same fucking building as the girl I planned to never see again. She already asked me to lunch. She’ll want more from me. What’s next? Will she start naming our future kids and planning our wedding?
I walk down the long hallway that flows with natural light, coming from the large windows that make up the walls of the building. I bypass people with smiles on their faces and giggles in their throats. It’s depressing, really. Not that I prefer everyone else to be sad and miserable, like me, but I’m envious that I don’t even have a sliver of the happiness they have. My smiles are fake. My kind words are rare and forced.
I’m enroute to my new office, or rather cubicle, when I pass by a large portrait of Mr. Glasson that is front and center in the lobby. He’s holding up a bottle of his company's water with a shit-eating grin on his face. One that says, this is my fucking company and being a billionaire allows me to boss all you fuckers around. I’d love to pull my hand out of my pocket and flip the bastard off, but I don’t. I need this job right now, even if I don’t agree with the way this man does business.
It’s a shame that the rest of the employees here don’t get the same luxuries as the corporate employees on the top floor. Even the temporary assistant has a nice setup with an amazing view. Yet, all of us minions and slaves to the Glassons are shoved downstairs in an open room full of box-sized cubicles. To say I’m bitter about the situation would be an understatement. I once had it all—until all I had was gone.
I drop back down in my chair, stare at the blank screen of the computer and wait for the next training session to begin. I was hoping that during our twenty-minute break, I could convince Mr. Glasson that I was skilled enough to move up to a higher position, one with more of a challenge and more pay. It looks as if I’ll be one of dozens working solely on the company’s social media platforms.
“Can I have your attention, please,” Mr. Johnson, the marketing manager, says loud enough for us all to hear. “For the remainder of the afternoon, we will be on the second floor in room 207. There will be a few videos that give you some background information on the company, as well as some future plans and prospects shared from our COO, Lance Glasson.
My neck twitches. Videos and a lecture. Oh, what a fun day we shall have.
I snatch my phone and keys off my desk, stand up then drop them into my pocket. Everyone around me is wearing a simple pair of khakis and a button-up shirt, and I’m almost positive I overdressed the part.
This is what I wanted. I didn’t choose this life, but I did choose to walk away from the one I had. Two years ago, I was sitting pretty in upper management. I was the king of my throne. Loved my job, had a beautiful wife to come home to every night. The thing about working for your own family is that when times get tough, to the company, you are just an employee. I needed time off, more time than they were willing to give me. My own parents forced me to step down from my position and I haven’t talked to them since. I could have eaten my pride and kissed their asses a bit, but I’m still sour about the entire thing. Still pissed that at that moment, I wasn’t their son. I was just a boy with a broken heart who needed to ‘get over it.’ Granted, it was no Glasson Waters. It was a small company, but I had a nice nest egg and a bright future. I gave it all up and lived off what I had saved for the past year. Now that it’s gone, I have no choice but to start over. I could go back with my tail between my legs, but that’s not me. I don’t beg, and I don’t ask for pity.