Copyright © 2020 Sara R Stewart
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.
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Monday morning comes too soon and before long I'm sitting at my desk with my first cup of coffee and a full inbox. I'll be honest, I am having a hard time focusing. I love my job, don't get me wrong but today it is particularly difficult to keep my mind on task.
Normally, the simplicity of a task well known or the excitement of a problem that can be solved by diving into the data to find and analyze what is driving a problem makes me happy. Numbers soothe me. They make me feel as if everything is in its place and all is right in my world. Spending time with numbers always interests me because numbers can be relied upon to follow the rules and meet my expectations.
Numbers do not promise to love you then shoot up the rent money and get you evicted. Numbers don't go into the hospital and never come out again. Numbers do not leave you on the doorstep of perfect stranger's house at six-years-old with nothing but the clothes on your back. Numbers do not look at you like a meal ticket, like a pest to be endured. And they certainly don't crawl into your bed at night pretending that holding you is what you want, all the while poking you in the back with an erection that has no right to be that close to a child's behind.
I love numbers because they are reliable and safe. They have given me a way to support myself and put food on the table. So, my inability to stay focused on work is unsettling. I keep replaying that kiss in my head over and over. It was light and tender but had electricity that coursed through me in a way I've never experienced before. How am I going to get any work done today if I keep thinking about Tahoe and his lips on mine?
I need to do something to get my brain back on track, so I head to the break room for another cup of coffee. Walking to the breakroom my brain jumps to seeing the faces of those poor kids paraded on stage. It was so nauseating that I ended up fleeing to the bathroom and throwing up. That stupid event brought up thoughts and memories that I'd carefully shoved down over the last decade, no wonder I can't stay focused.
After my coffee, a donut, and the morning account teams meeting, I am feeling a bit more like myself when my office line rings.
"Sailor Cook," I answer.
"Sailor, you have a delivery at the front desk," says the receptionist.
"I'll be right up," I reply and hang up the phone.
When I get to the reception area, I notice what has to be the biggest and most beautiful floral arrangement I have ever seen. The receptionist, Sam, smiles as I approach.
"The courier just left these for you, Sailor."
YOU ARE READING
Where Love Finds You
RomanceSailor has spent a lifetime fighting to get over an ugly past. Driven and successful, she's come too far to let anyone get in her way. Not even gorgeous, sexy Tahoe. Finding him impossible to resist, the only way she can keep from giving in to his c...
