Liam
Betty brings me another cup of coffee the next morning as I work like a madman.
“Thanks, love,” I tell her, flashing her a quick smile.
“Hard at work, aren’t you?” Her grandmotherly demeanor makes me happy. “I’ll keep it coming,” she says, nodding at the coffee.
“Please,” I reply, giving her a mock-desperate look. I’m going to need all the energy I can get if I’m going to pull this thing off. I was up most of the night thinking about my plan, and when I realized I was just tossing and turning at four this morning, I came to the office to get shit done. I’ve worked almost an entire work day already, and I’m nowhere near finished.
Betty leaves, shutting the door that separates my office from the lobby where her desk is, and I pick up the phone, making what feels like the thousandth call today.
I speak to the head of one of my favorite charities, getting his opinion and input, seeing how fast he can make things happen, typing out emails and arranging conference calls and making lists of vendors all at the same time. Normally for something this huge, I’d outsource all this shit, but I don’t have any margin for error with this.
Everything has to be perfect. My whole fucking future hinges on it.
On one of my calls a bit later, I knock back what’s left of the coffee and click to my messaging app on my computer, requesting more from Betty.
She walks in with it almost immediately, in time to hear me raise my voice to the coordinator I’m speaking with. “You need to check with your superiors immediately. I’m calling in a favor here, and I won’t take no for an answer. I’ve donated uncountable amounts of money to your organization. I expect to hear back from you in the next hour with a different answer.”
I slam the phone down, and Betty looks at me in surprise. I don’t often have to play the role of a hard-ass when it comes to my business interactions, but I’ve been calling in favors all fucking day for this. I don’t like being told no. It’s not something I’m used to. And it pisses me off to be told my requests can’t be accommodated on such short notice. Fuck that. I’m not above reminding anyone and everyone what all I’ve done for them in the past. This is too fucking important.
Just as Betty sets my coffee down, Connor appears in the doorway, his eyebrows flying nearly up to his hairline at the chaos my office has become. Discarded coffee cups, wadded up papers, notepads everywhere. My office is always immaculate, but this kind of reflects my current state of mine.
“How’s it going, man?” he asks warily as Betty makes herself scarce, shutting the door on her way out.
I glare at him.
Connor holds his hands up, palms out. “Sorry for asking. Caught you at a bad time, apparently.” But it doesn’t stop him from sitting down on one of the leather chairs across from me. He crosses one ankle over the opposite knee. “How are things with Cara?”
I groan.
“That bad?”
“Well, let’s just say that telling a fucking lie isn’t the best way to start a new relationship.”
Connor gives me a sympathetic look. “It was a fucking bad idea. I’m sorry, dude. I really thought it might help you see the light, though.”
I snort. “See the light? What are you, a fucking prophet now?”
Connor chuckles. “I just mean that it’s time you stopped the path of self-destruction you were on.”
I roll my eyes. He acts like he’s so wise, but it’s his stupid idea that got me into this mess in the first place. But then I sigh. I can’t really be mad because if it weren’t for him, I never would have met Cara in the first place.
“Well, your plan backfired,” I say. “But that’s okay. If nothing else, I realized you’re right. And I fucking love her, dude. How crazy is that?”
Connor smiles. “I’d say I never thought I’d see the day, but…”
“Okay, smart ass. You were right about Cara being the girl for me, but you’re brilliant idea still landed me in hot water.” I grin anyway. “But I have a plan. I’m going to get her back.”
He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Tell me more.”
I start telling him some of the plans I’m putting in place, but stop when my phone blinks and vibrates on my desk. I pick it up and stare at the screen.
Cara.
I let it go to voicemail.
“What the fuck, man?” Connor asks. “You sure have a funny way of trying to win a girl back.”
I shake my head, a smile curving my lips. “Wrong, genius. The next time I talk to Cara, it’s going to be face to face. None of this pussy over the phone bullshit.”
Then I finish filling him in on my plans. When I’m done, he leans back in his chair and lets out a low whistle.
“That takes some serious balls, dude.”
I shrug. “Go big or go home.”
Connor laughs, shaking his head. “Good luck, man. Good luck.”
I nod my thanks. Because I’m sure going to fucking need it.