Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Nena, everyone has emotions. Small-minded people will see your heritage and call yours over-the-top and too big. The reality is that, yes, you get your passionate energy from me and your father—the Irish are very energetic, too. But also, you get it from you. You are your own person and there is nothing wrong with letting people see your passion. Don’t let them change who you were meant to be. Don’t let them make you ashamed and hide. Other people don’t get to decide who you are—you do.
Despite my mother’s words, I stifled my emotions and controlled them—robbing students and teachers of their ability to criticize.
Unfortunately, sometimes they grew too big and bubbled over, swallowing me whole.
A soft knock pre-ambled the door cracking open. All over again, my muscles tightened, preparing for battle, fully expecting my father’s gray hair to appear. Instead, a dark crown of ringlets entered, followed by a hesitant smile.
“Did you know?” I asked, still stiff.
Shiloh had the decency to wince as she closed the door behind her.
“How could you not tell me?”
“I only found out this morning,” she explained and held up her hands. “And you kind of scare me.”
A bark of laughter slipped free. I scared her?
One, Shiloh was my boss. She was the director of the A&R department. She’d trained me when I was a teen in high school.
Two, she was almost six feet tall, giving her more than six inches on me.
Three, I loved her. She’d become one of my closest friends and stood for everything I wanted to be. Naturally respected and powerful, but kind and well-liked by everyone.
“Don’t laugh,” she ordered. “You’re small and scary when you get in your moods.”
“I don’t have moods.”
She pursed her full lips and leveled me with the most deadpan look I’d ever seen.
“Ugh, fine.” I caved and fell into one of the cushioned chairs in front of my desk. Even though I tried, she was the only other person I didn’t have to hide my emotions from. However, unlike my father, she understood the pressure of stereotypes as a Black businesswoman. “What does this mean?” I asked once she sat in the chair beside me.
“I don’t know. I was hoping I’d catch you before my meeting so you could tell me what the contract said.”
“Oh, um…I haven’t seen it.”
She gasped. “He didn’t show you?”
“Well…” I hesitated, fiddling with an imaginary string on my black slacks. “I kind of stormed out when he offered that we go over it with Mr. Arrogant-pig-face-buyer at dinner.” Unsurprisingly, her jaw dropped, but I continued before she could start pointing out how absurd I acted. “And I didn’t want to go to Raíces with him. It’s my favorite restaurant and if we went there to go over the contract that sold away my family company to some tall-dark-man, then I would never be able to eat there again. Would you want that for me? To never eat their delicious mofongo or tostones again?”
She shook her head and breathed a laugh before standing up. “You know what? I know you. I know you need to sit with your anger for a bit. So, I’m gonna let you do all the name-calling and be as dramatic as you want. We can talk later.”
I sighed, releasing another inch of tension from my shoulders. “You know me so well.”
“I sure do. Which makes it kind of hard to leave for my meeting when I know all the creative names and insults you’re going to come up with for this buyer. Although, I think I heard some swooning when you used the words tall and dark.”
“Blech. He looks like the shadows of hell. There was zero swooning,” I denied vehemently.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she muttered with a dubious roll of her eyes.
Once she left, I rubbed at my chest, attempting to ease the chaotic energy still lingering. I glanced at the book and quickly looked away. Then to the stack of papers on my desk, wondering if they could distract me, but knew I couldn’t think straight. I needed something mindless. Something to connect with and tether me back to reality.
And I knew just the thing.
Grabbing my phone, I wondered how quickly I could get home. Probably less than twenty minutes, which left me plenty of time to beat him there.
I sent a message before I thought too much about it.
Me: You have five minutes.
Less than a minute later, my phone dinged with a response.
Ash: I’ll be there in fifteen.
Perfect.
CHAPTER 2
LUCIAN
Hank Quinn sighed for the fifth time in the space that his daughter stormed in and out of his office.
When I entered, I would have guessed him to be no older than his early sixties. By the time Aspen Quinn finished wreaking her havoc, he looked every day of his seventy-seven years.
While he grew tired, other parts of me just grew. Hell, I couldn’t even pinpoint my favorite part of the experience, but watching her walk out sat near the top of my list. Enjoying the view of her from behind.