"Want to know how I felt with the thought of another man's touching what's mine?" His finger edge deeper inside of me, tears dripping down my face, light sobs echo throughout the room.
"I was envious." My fingernails dug into his skin, sobbing agai...
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ROMAN & DAWN Seattle, Washington . . .
I always was a man with very thin patience.
I tuned out the thin brunette in front of me, her Saint Laurent heel tapping against my office's cold dark marble floor, and my little bit of patience was thinning more and more.
My phone pressed against my ear, one ring, two rings, and not an answer yet, what the fuck. I never thought I was a man with separation anxiety, but I'd been away from Dawn for almost twenty-four hours and itching to be at her side again.
I came into the office, and the black-flash of my little disagreement with Noah Shaw made the front cover of the Seattle Times Magazine and I was the talk of the city. Nothing I didn't expect but what I didn't expect was the brunette in my office claiming to be my publicist.
I was just on my way to get lunch, hoping I could stop by Dawn's office just before my next meeting but my plans were disturbed. She claims she was hired by my father, so help me god he will run me into an early grave.
"I was wondering when you were gonna call," My father's thick Russian accent poured into my ear as the phone connected after the fifth ring. Annoyance wormed its way into my chest.
"I want her gone," my jaw ticked in annoyance, I never needed a publicist because my image was shaped and perfect by the time I was three, her being here was useless and overall wasting my time.
"Can't happen," he said coolly. "I knew you wouldn't like it but I cannot risk a single mistake to mess up my election,"
"I can assure you, I don't need her cleaning up my mess, I want her gone," I didn't care whether people personally liked me, but public perception was important during election time more than ever.
I glanced at the brunette, her gaze tore to the ground Whatever confidence she held slipped into the shadows.
"Please don't fight me Syn," I dipped my head towards the ceiling. "Only until the election is over,"
I knew my father wasn't going to back down on this, the election was over soon and I would have to deal with her for a short period.
"Do not make me regret this," I say, my eyes dipping to the clock, I could still make it to see Dawn if I wrapped this call-up and get rid of the girl.
"You won't, Will you be arriving alone next week or should I dust off the cdetskiye kartinki,"
Thanksgiving was the next month, and my mother called me hoping I would break the tradition that I had as a kid, I would spend every holiday in two as I got older I spent my holidays with one parent every year.
What can I say, I have been a son of a divorced couple since I was born.
"Goodbye Father," I ended the call, not ready to hear his questions or because I didn't have the answer for him.
