Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance) (35 page)

BOOK: Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance)
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Chapter
Twenty-Four

Emily

 

As
I watched the elevator doors slide shut, I felt like crying. I wanted Austin,
and now I knew he wanted me, but I couldn't betray Tommy that way. It wasn't
the first time I felt like our marriage had been a mistake, but I wasn't a
quitter.

I changed out of my in-flight uniform and
into one of the thick terrycloth robes that was neatly folded on the bathroom
counter. The penthouse was bigger than my house with several bedrooms, each
decorated in a soothing color and with its own private bathroom. There was a
full dining room and behind it a fully stocked kitchen where I quickly made
myself a snack of cheese, prosciutto, and what smelled like fresh baked bread.
I carried my plate and a Foster's into the living room to enjoy the spectacular
view of Sydney Harbor while I ate.

I couldn't help but think about how this
view would be improved by Austin's presence – how I wanted to curl up on the
couch wrapped in his arms, feeling his hands roaming my body as we slowly
explored each other. I blushed as I thought about wanting to pull off his shirt
and run my fingers across his broad chest as I kissed him. I knew I wanted so
much more than that, but it was all I would allow myself to imagine for now.

I finished my late night snack and drank
the last of my beer before I dug my phone out of my purse and went into the
bedroom sunk down on the luxurious king-sized four-poster with a breathtaking
view of the harbor. For a moment, I thought about what it would be like to have
Tommy here with me and I realized that I missed him. I missed the familiarity
of his voice and the way he smiled at me when he was happy about something I'd
done for him. I missed the way he'd wrap his arms around my waist as I washed
the dinner dishes while waiting for his turn to dry them. I missed his sweetness
and his gentle spirit, but mostly I missed the way we knew each other like the
back of our own hands. I smiled as I thought about how he would be just as
amazed by all of this opulent wealth and how we'd laugh about feeling like we'd
won the lottery.

Smiling, I picked up my phone and tapped
the screen until his contact information appeared. The picture of him was one
I'd taken on our honeymoon. We hadn't had much money or time off work, so we'd
decided to go camping for the weekend in the Grand Canyon. The trip had been a
disaster marked by wind and rain, and we'd spent most of the weekend in our
tent playing cards. On the second day, the sun broke through the clouds for a
short while and Tommy climbed out of the tent and danced in the light calling
to me to come join him. I eyed the sky skeptically, but finally climbed out of
the tent and joined him, but not before I snapped a shot of him with his arms
wide open smiling up at the sun. It was one of those moments of pure joy when
everything was possible and our future was still ahead of us.

My finger hovered over the screen for a
few seconds before I tapped it and heard the phone ringing on the other end. I
heard him pick up, but the line was silent for a few seconds before he spoke.

"Yo, 'sup, babe?" a voice
slurred on the other end.

"Tommy?" I said hesitating a
little wondering if I'd dialed the wrong number.

"Tha's my name, don't wear it out,
babe," came the drunken response. "Who's this?"

"Tommy, it's Emily," I said.
"Your wife, remember me?"

"Huh, wife?" he replied in a
confused tone. "Whose wife?"

"Yours!" I yelled into the
speaker. "What is going on over there?"

"Hey, hey, hey, chill out,
babe," he muttered. "I gotcha, it's all good."

"Tommy, what is going on?" I
demanded. "Why are you drunk? It's four in the morning over there!"

"Yeah, well, see me and the crew went
out for dinner after work," he began.

"You guys get done at two in the
afternoon!" I yelled. "Tommy! What is going on?"

"Look, babe, you're gone. I'm
batching it with the boys, it's no big thing," he tried to soothe me, but
the fact that he was completely wasted simply turned my irritation to anger.

"It is a big thing," I said in a
chilly tone. "It's a very big thing. You promised that you were going to
be responsible while I was gone and get things done around the house.
Obviously, you aren't doing that."

"Good lord, woman!" he exploded.
"Why do you always have to nag, nag, nag! It's like you want to make me
drink!"

"Oh no," I replied. "I
don't make you do anything; you've chosen this idiocy all by yourself."

"Look, I'm a grown man and I am
allowed to make my own decisions," he said, only partly stumbling over the
words. "I'm alone while you're out globetrotting with the rich and famous,
so I'm allowed to do what I want when I want."

"No, Tommy, you have a wife and a
family that you are responsible for," I said calmly. "You're not a
bachelor and you're not supposed to be drinking like a fish on a night when you
should be taking care of business at our home. I'm tired of this."

"What are you getting so upset
about?" he yelled. "Jesus, I've had a few drinks with the guys and
it's late, but I know my own limits and I know what I can and cannot handle
when I have to work in the morning. You've become a really negative person since
you took this promotion, you know?"

"Me? I've become a negative
person?" I cried incredulously. "I've been trying to put a happy face
on this disaster of a marriage for months! You are such an idiot! I'm sick of
this! I'm sick of you! I'm sick of being married to you!"

I didn't wait to hear his response. I
pulled the phone away from my ear and hit the disconnect button ending the
call. Then, I flipped the switch and turned off the sound so that I wouldn't
have to listen to him blow up my phone for the next several hours. I grabbed
one of the many plump pillows that were artfully arranged on the bed, wrapped
my arms around it, and sobbed.

 

#

I
lay on the couch crying until I was exhausted, and when I finally felt like I
couldn't cry anymore, I picked up my phone and texted Trish.

 

Em_Flies: 911

RedBird: What's wrong?

Em_Flies: Talked to Tommy. He's drunk.

RedBird: Uh oh. U OK?

Em_Flies: Idk.

RedBird: Want me to come up?

Em_Flies: Please?

RedBird: What room?

Em_Flies: Penthouse suite.

RedBird: Holy crap! Be up in a minute.

 

A few minutes later the elevator buzzed
and I pressed the button that allowed it to ascend to the middle of the suite's
living room. Trish stepped out and gave a long low wolf whistle. She was
wearing steel blue leggings topped with a matching hoodie that set off her blue
eyes and red hair. Trish was the only woman I knew who could make sweats look
as glamorous and sexy as an evening gown.

"Hey, Princess, nice digs!" She
smiled as she enveloped me in a hug that caused the tears to well up again. I
set my head on her shoulder as she patted my head and whispered, "It's all
going to be okay. You know that, right?"

I nodded, then pulled back and walked
across the room to the kitchen calling, "Wine or beer? Name your
poison!"

"Give me a glass of the good red
stuff," she said as she walked to the windows and looked out at the
harbor. "My God, how did you end up with this palace?"

"My room had been given away and they
were about to book me into another hotel when Prince Charming rode in on his
white horse and saved the day," I said as cheerfully as I could.
"Lucky me."

"Wait, Marks got you this room?"
she yelled. "No fooling?"

"Nope, dead serious," I said as
walked over and handed her a glass of wine. "He even brought me up here
and showed me around."

"Uh oh," Trish said as she
sipped. "What happened?"

"He...um..." I stammered as I
the red rose in my cheeks.

"Oh, Princess, what happened?"
she repeated as she snuggled into one end of the couch and looked at me
expectantly. "Spill it!"

"He kissed me. I told him I couldn't
and he left," I said as I set my drink on the side table and settled into
the other end of the couch. "That's it."

"Oh no, that's not it at all,"
she scolded. "I know better than that!"

"Trish, I don't know what to
do!" I whispered as I twisted my hands in my lap. "Everything is a
mess."

"Oh c'mon, it can't be that
bad," she soothed. "I mean, seriously, what's the problem? A rich guy
makes a pass at you and you turn him down. It's happened to the best of
us."

"Trish, I wanted to go further,"
I said as I looked up at her with pained eyes. "But I didn't, and I didn't
tell him why, so he thinks that I just shot him down. He left here sulking, and
then I called Tommy, and now everything is a mess!"

"Hold on, hold on," she said
holding up a hand to stop the rapid flow of frantic words tumbling out of my
lips. "Slow down and tell me what happened with Tommy."

I recounted the whole phone conversation
with him and told her about the ultimatum I'd issued, and by the time I was
done, I was crying again. Trish looked at me from across the couch before she
set her wine glass down and moved over so that she could enfold me in her arms
and rest her chin on my head as I sobbed into her shoulder.

"My life is mess!" I cried.

"Oh Princess, far from it," she
said as she patted my back and rocked me like my mother used to do when I was
little. "Everyone has these moments where they are caught between a rock and
a hard place, your moment just came really early in your life, and it's okay.
You'll get through this."

"How do you know?" I said as I
looked around for a tissue. Trish pulled away, got up and walked to the
bathroom where she found a box of tissues, and returned to the couch.

"I know because this is what they
call life, Princess." She smiled as she pulled tissue after tissue from
the pop up box and handed them to me so I could wipe my eyes and blow my nose.
"Look, you've got a tough choice to make right now, there's no denying
that, but you're going to have to dig deep and decide what you really want
right now and what you want for the future."

"How am I going to make that kind of
decision?" I asked as I sniffled. Trish pulled another tissue out of the box
and handed it to me with a smile.

"You're going to have to go with your
heart," she said as she patted my shoulder.

"What does that even mean?" I
asked as I looked up at her helplessly. "Go with your heart? That's the
dumbest thing I've ever heard in my life."

"No, it's the thing that most of us
have the hardest time doing," she said as she dropped the box of tissues
next to me and moved back to the other end of the couch and her wine. "We
tell ourselves to follow our heart or go with our intuition, but really, all
we're saying is do what feels right, not what we're conditioned to do or told
we should do."

"But if everyone did that, we'd
have..." I trailed off.

"Yeah, we'd have a society of people
who were making decisions that actually made them happy instead of trying to
live up to everyone else's standards and ideals," she said as she sipped
her wine with a smile. "Why do you think I do what I do?"

"Because you're smart and sexy,"
I said.

"Well thanks, Princess!" she
laughed. "No, I do what I do because it makes me happy. I don't like being
tied down or made to answer to anyone but myself. So, I follow the wind where
it blows me, and I enjoy myself to the fullest. I don't regret anything or feel
guilty about enjoying my life."

"That sounds like the perfect
life," I said. "Like you have it all figured out."

"Oh, it's not without a price,"
she laughed. "That's what you need to understand, Princess, nothing in
life is free. The life I choose to live means that there are those who are
disappointed in me and it also means that I have traded certain things for
other things, but, in the end, I'm okay with that."

"Who could possibly be disappointed
in you?" I asked, bewildered. Trish was happy and had the world at her
fingertips, how could this possibly cause a problem?

"Ask my mother about how she feels
about my choices," she said as she rolled her eyes dramatically.
"She's so upset that I haven't settled down and given her a pack of
grandchildren. And she feels like my gallivanting, as she calls it, is an insult
to her choices. Like I'm flaunting my freedom when she's tied to a house and a
husband, both of which she is tired of."

"How could she feel that way about
you?" I wondered.

 
"Look, Princess, other people are going
to judge you and your choices based on how they feel about their own
lives," she said as she leaned forward. "You have to push past that
and figure out what it is you want for you. Once you do, you'll start to make
good choices that make you happy, rather than trying to appease everyone else
"

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