Second Chances [On Hold]

Chapter 3

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The next morning, I woke up at six o’clock on the dot. Why, you may ask? Because Christian decided to schedule my meeting with Mark at seven o’clock in the freaking morning! Seriously, did he forget who he’s friends with? I was anything but a morning person. Another perk about being a writer—I get to sleep in.

         So, let’s just say when I arrived at E.M. Press publishing house, I was beyond ticked off. I was still in my sweats, and an oversized tank top with the words Bite Me scribbled on it, not really caring about the way I dressed. Mark should be satisfied I even dragged my body out of bed this morning. That should tell him how much I needed him to obey and listen to me. Because there’s no way in hell, I was working with that man.

         Passing the secretary, I gave her a side glance before storming pass the large office filled with employees clicking and tapping away on their Macs. They didn’t even noticed me when I breezed past them, the air around me probably saying “stay away”. I think by now they knew not to acknowledge me if I came in anytime before noon. Even Christian knew to stay away for his own benefit.

         By the time I made my way up the stairs, not having the patience to wait for the elevator, I was fully determined to march into Mark’s office, demanding him to rip that contract apart. But before I could even pound my fist against his door, the door rips open, revealing an overly cheerful, CEO.

         “Skylar!”

         My face connected with his hard chest before I could say something. I tried my best not to burn holes through his white button down shirt with my heated eyes.

         “You look so lovely this morning,” he said buttering me up with that damn accent of his. “Come in! Do you want coffee? I can have my assistant get you some. Or maybe tea? Or some orange j—”

         “Mark!”

         He shut his mouth, yelping in surprise. He turned around slowly, chuckling quietly. “Okay, no refreshments. Got it.” He made an ‘okay’ sign with his hand. “What about a muffin? We got chocolate chip, blueberries—”

         “Mark,” I said getting really annoyed now. “I’m not hungry. Can we just get down to business?”

         He ignored me. “Nonsense, I’ll even get you some pancakes if you want!”

         I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to relax. “Mark,” I called his name, trying my best to keep my growing anger in check. “The contract, please.”

         He sighed, running his fingers through his dark locks. “Fine,” he concluded, knowing his little ‘distraction act’ wouldn’t be working on me anytime soon. “Sit.” He pointed at the black leather loveseat placed right in front of him.

         I did as he said, getting comfortable. I placed my hands on my crossed legs. “So, Mark, I heard you decided to sign a contract without my permission.” I smiled sweetly, even though I wasn’t anything but sweet right now.

         “It’s not like I signed it without your permission,” he pointed out. “More like, I accepted it on your behave.”

         My hands closed into tight fists. “And why did you do that?”

         “Because you signed a contract with me two years ago. And in that contract it says you have to abide to any promotional opportunities I see fit.” He grinned smugly, looking like he won a damn medal.