His happy little voice brings a huge smile to my face. “How’s my main man?”
Forty minutes later the car pulls into the Miles Media building, and I get out of the car and peer up at the sleek and modern skyscraper.
MILES MEDIA
Hmm, it’s so . . . huge.
I walk through the foyer and notice the marble and the guards and the sheer luxury of the building.
I catch the elevator to the top floor; the doors open with a ping, and I step out to the flitter of my stomach.
I’m nervous to be back.
Here early to start the day, I walk past the empty reception and down to my office.
My eyes roam over the couch and the drop-dead-gorgeous view, the large desk and fully stocked bar in the corner. A strange feeling washes over me.
Pride.
My family has built this business from the ground up, worked their fingers to the very bone, and I owe them a lot.
I’ve been given the opportunity of a lifetime . . . and damn it, I’m going to repay them for the privilege.
I turn my computer on with a new determination. I’m going to be the best version of myself that I can be. Work harder than ever before.
At the very least, I owe them that.
I open my email. We opened it back up over the weekend in preparation for my return today.
Six hundred and twenty-six emails.
Fuck.
I open my diary on my computer and see that I’m booked back to back with appointments for nearly the entire week. Zooms and conference calls with Paris and New York. Some running late into the nights.
Ugh . . .
I have a feeling that the first few weeks are going to be hectic hell while I catch up on everything. Elliot is here for the week with me, and then he leaves for a two-month vacation, which is only fair.
Then it’s all on me.
I email Elouise, my PA.
Hi Elouise,
Great to be back!
Can you book me an appointment with Reynolds Jewels when my schedule permits please?
This week if possible.
Thank you.
Ps . . . and come and see me when you arrive!
Christopher.
I get up and make myself a coffee with a smile.
A diamond ring for my love . . .
Life is good.
HAYDEN
I walk around the apartment. It’s big and grand and deathly quiet.
There are no sounds in this penthouse. No wind, no rain . . . no cows.
Nothing.
It’s only eleven o’clock. It’s like time has stood still. What am I supposed to do for the rest of the day? I’ve already done our washing and cleaned the apartment, not that I needed to. It was already spotless.
I pick up my phone, and my finger hovers over Christopher’s name. Just a quick call?
No . . .
I need to let him work in peace. I can’t call him every time I’m bored. I throw my phone onto the couch and go to the window and stare out over the city. It’s pouring rain.
I was going to go for a walk or . . . to the shops to find a new dress for Friday night, but I don’t fancy getting saturated, and I have no idea where an umbrella is.
There’s no rush. I guess I can look around tomorrow, and I have the whole week to find a dress. How hard can it be?