Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
My love for my stepmother was what fuelled me.
When I reached Jonathan’s office, clearly the largest on the entire floor, judging by the thick double doors, I lifted my hand and knocked.
“What is it, Therese? I’m on the phone with David,” a deep, masculine voice called out. Something about that voice had hairs rising on the back of my neck.
Inhaling a deep breath for courage, I placed my fingers around the handle and pushed. Stepping inside, I found Jonathan sitting by his ridiculously large desk, phone held to his ear as his gaze lifted. That same gaze beheld me for several beats, allowing me a moment to take him in. He hadn’t changed much from the photographs I’d seen. His hair was slightly shorter, with some grey at the temples peppered into the blond. He had broad, strong-looking shoulders encased in a suit that appeared custom tailored to his physique.
Lastly, I beheld his eyes, so light a shade of blue they were almost grey. There was something in his features and countenance that gave me pause. He struck me as a man who rarely smiled. There were no laugh lines around his mouth, no crinkles at the eyes, suggesting they were rarely lit with joy.
I became aware that he was taking me in just as acutely as I was him. His attention went to my face, wandering to my hair for a prolonged moment then down over my outfit before he said to whoever was on the other end of the phone, “Sorry, but I’ll have to call you back.”
He hung up before levelling me with a frown, his tone displaying how inconvenienced he felt. “You’re not Therese.”
“No, I’m not,” I said, my voice a little shaky because there was something undeniably intimidating about him. Perhaps it was the expensive suit, his extraordinary handsomeness or merely the fact that he radiated “I’m the boss” energy. Whatever it was, it took effort to continue, “My name is Ada Rose. I’m Conor’s daughter, and I—”
“Get out!” he glared, standing and striding towards the door. “I told Amy not to let you up, and now, I hope she’s prepared to freshen up her resume because—”
“Please,” I said, holding up both hands. “Don’t fire Amy.” I assumed she was the kind and apologetic receptionist downstairs. “It’s not her fault. She told me you weren’t available, but I snuck up here when she wasn’t looking. I wouldn’t normally resort to such measures, but I have something I need to tell you, and it’s important I do so in person.”
At that, his frown intensified. He was only a foot or two away from me, and a waft of his cologne—it smelled just as expensive as his suit—hit my nose. He was also very tall, practically towering over my five-foot-five frame.
“Whatever you’ve come for, I’m not interested. I expect it’s money?” He cast his icy gaze over my worn clothes and discount handbag. I bristled. “My mother probably mentioned my wealth in passing, and you thought you’d try your luck scamming some cash out of me? Well, it isn’t going to happen. Now, please leave before I call security.”
I blinked, struggling to form a coherent response. I’d never been spoken to with such unmasked disdain. He’s Leonora’s son, I reminded myself. I wouldn’t lash out at him, no matter how much of an arrogant prick he was being.
“Jonathan, I mean, Mr Oaks,” I responded evenly, battling against my temper. “I promise I’m not here to scam you or whatever else you’re thinking. I have some news about your mother, and I’d really like for us to sit down and talk because it isn’t something appropriate to blurt while you’re shoving me out the door.”
What I said seemed to give him pause. He must’ve read something in my eyes or heard the hitch of emotion in my voice because he stepped back from the door, though his mistrustful gaze never left me.
“What news of my mother?”
I glanced towards his desk. “Can we sit?”
“Fine. You have two minutes. I’m a very busy man.”
“Evidently,” I responded, unable to keep the slight attitude from my tone that time. His eyes flashed to mine, his expression withering, but he didn’t retort. Instead, he sat and motioned for me to take the seat in front of his desk.
I sat and rubbed my hands on my jeans. They were shaking, and Jonathan noticed. His expression softened the tiniest bit. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Miss Rose?”
I swallowed thickly, thinking of the two people whom I loved so dearly and who were no longer with us, just gone from the world. It felt wrong. Not real. Tears welled behind my eyes once again, but I managed to blink them back.
“There’s no easy way to say this,” I told him, my voice quiet as I met his gaze. “Your mother and my father were in Thailand for the last few weeks. They’d been planning the trip for years. It was one of their bucket list items. Well, I received a couple phone calls and updates from them, and they’d been having an amazing time, but …” My words fell off, my throat clogging. I cleared it and forced myself to continue, “Two days ago, I received a call from a Thai official. His English was heavily accented, and at first, I couldn’t understand what he was trying to tell me. Eventually, I comprehended that our parents had gone out on a private boat excursion. It had been booked for months, but there were adverse weather conditions. In the end, they forged ahead with the tour, but a storm hit, and the boat went under.”