Devoted - The Complete Series: A BWWM Romance Boxset Read Online Free
Author: Sadie Black
that must be kept from the office walls. “She sounded really upset this time, Sir. If you have a moment, you might want to call her.”
Every muscle in my neck squeezes into a tight little knot. It’s 8:15 and I’m already bombarded with a stack of approximately twenty messages. I’m sure there’s at least this many sitting in my inbox and probably another twenty on my voicemail. This thing with Eileen is getting out of hand. It’s getting worse by the day.
“Thank you, Rachel, I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, get my lawyer on the phone. If you can’t get a hold of him leave a message for Dwight that I need him to call me back. Make it very clear that it’s urgent.” Rachel nods at my demands. Lord knows that I pay that man enough to call me back promptly. I swear, the higher person’s salary, the more entitled they become.
With a stack of papers and the beginnings of a headache, I head into my office, “Sir?” With effort, I shuffle around to face her, now what? I know it isn’t Rachel’s fault. Don’t shoot the messenger , I bite by my tongue and wait. “Should I push your meetings to the left so you can deal with this? The first one is in ten minutes.” I flip my wrist looking at my brother’s old Rolex. Time couldn’t be more restrictive than it’s been these last few months. Between two time zones, these crisis situations with Eileen, and the new launch of the Zervion Global Systems One Communications Campaign, time has been the one luxury I can’t afford.
“Please do,” I slump over. “And Rachel?” Her eyebrows raise in response, “make sure that I’m not disturbed for the next twenty to thirty minutes, please? I’m calling Mrs. Sheppard.”
“Certainly, Sir. That won’t be a problem.” There it is again, pity .
My office door bears the brunt of my frustration as I slam it shut. The blinds and the picture frame holding the key to my heart, my little girl, shake from the force. I sink into my leather chair and stare into her big brown eyes for a moment, mustering the will to call her mother. My fingers dial the familiar digits from pure muscle memory. It comes with dealing with a new crisis every day in this woman’s life. As the phone rings, I hold my breath wondering which version of Eileen I’m going to speak to this morning. Angry? Depressed? Manic?
“Hello?” Her voice is soft, so soft I wonder for a second if it is Brooklyn that answered.
“Eileen?”
“Who else would it be? What kind of question is that? I swear you getting stupider by the day!” Well that answers that question.
“Eileen, I don’t have time for this, what do you want?” The tension is twisting inside my forehead pulling on the backs of my eyeballs.
“Well, Trevor –”
“Bradley,” I correct her.
“That’s what I said!” She shrieks in my ear so loud that I pull the phone away. “Is this how you treat someone in crisis? Is how you treat your family? How can you just leave me here to deal with everything we’re off in New York? You don’t even care what happens to us.”
I can’t contain my sigh, this is a conversation I don’t feel like having for the hundredth time this week. “Eileen, focus, please.” I grit my teeth and intend to keep my voice even, but it’s so difficult when you are dealing with someone so irrational. She’s sick, just remember she is sick. “If you tell me what the problem is, then maybe we can fix it.” I hold a receiver against my forehead resisting the urge to smash it between my eyes until I knock myself out.
“I thought you should know that I sent that so-called Nanny you got for us packing. I told you from the get-go that she was no good! She was stealing from me, and she was abusing Brooklyn, but you wouldn’t listen! You never listen to me anymore, Trevor. I don’t know why you have to make things so difficult around here when you know it’s hard enough? All you think
Every muscle in my neck squeezes into a tight little knot. It’s 8:15 and I’m already bombarded with a stack of approximately twenty messages. I’m sure there’s at least this many sitting in my inbox and probably another twenty on my voicemail. This thing with Eileen is getting out of hand. It’s getting worse by the day.
“Thank you, Rachel, I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, get my lawyer on the phone. If you can’t get a hold of him leave a message for Dwight that I need him to call me back. Make it very clear that it’s urgent.” Rachel nods at my demands. Lord knows that I pay that man enough to call me back promptly. I swear, the higher person’s salary, the more entitled they become.
With a stack of papers and the beginnings of a headache, I head into my office, “Sir?” With effort, I shuffle around to face her, now what? I know it isn’t Rachel’s fault. Don’t shoot the messenger , I bite by my tongue and wait. “Should I push your meetings to the left so you can deal with this? The first one is in ten minutes.” I flip my wrist looking at my brother’s old Rolex. Time couldn’t be more restrictive than it’s been these last few months. Between two time zones, these crisis situations with Eileen, and the new launch of the Zervion Global Systems One Communications Campaign, time has been the one luxury I can’t afford.
“Please do,” I slump over. “And Rachel?” Her eyebrows raise in response, “make sure that I’m not disturbed for the next twenty to thirty minutes, please? I’m calling Mrs. Sheppard.”
“Certainly, Sir. That won’t be a problem.” There it is again, pity .
My office door bears the brunt of my frustration as I slam it shut. The blinds and the picture frame holding the key to my heart, my little girl, shake from the force. I sink into my leather chair and stare into her big brown eyes for a moment, mustering the will to call her mother. My fingers dial the familiar digits from pure muscle memory. It comes with dealing with a new crisis every day in this woman’s life. As the phone rings, I hold my breath wondering which version of Eileen I’m going to speak to this morning. Angry? Depressed? Manic?
“Hello?” Her voice is soft, so soft I wonder for a second if it is Brooklyn that answered.
“Eileen?”
“Who else would it be? What kind of question is that? I swear you getting stupider by the day!” Well that answers that question.
“Eileen, I don’t have time for this, what do you want?” The tension is twisting inside my forehead pulling on the backs of my eyeballs.
“Well, Trevor –”
“Bradley,” I correct her.
“That’s what I said!” She shrieks in my ear so loud that I pull the phone away. “Is this how you treat someone in crisis? Is how you treat your family? How can you just leave me here to deal with everything we’re off in New York? You don’t even care what happens to us.”
I can’t contain my sigh, this is a conversation I don’t feel like having for the hundredth time this week. “Eileen, focus, please.” I grit my teeth and intend to keep my voice even, but it’s so difficult when you are dealing with someone so irrational. She’s sick, just remember she is sick. “If you tell me what the problem is, then maybe we can fix it.” I hold a receiver against my forehead resisting the urge to smash it between my eyes until I knock myself out.
“I thought you should know that I sent that so-called Nanny you got for us packing. I told you from the get-go that she was no good! She was stealing from me, and she was abusing Brooklyn, but you wouldn’t listen! You never listen to me anymore, Trevor. I don’t know why you have to make things so difficult around here when you know it’s hard enough? All you think
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