Not with a Fizzle, But with a Bang (The Bang Series #1)

Chapter 35

By Tuesday things are almost normal. Except for my extra workload. The night before I had to do three different interviews. An early dinner, a later dinner, and then drinks. By the time I had been done I was exhausted.

As I'm typing up an email to send to everyone in the office I get the now familiar ping of an IM.

CClark: You're frowing...why?

ESinclair: Just thinking...

CClark: Meetings tonight?

ESinclair: Yes, I thought I told you that this morning in the elevator?

CClark: Hmm you did. I must have forgotten...I seem to remember something more from the elevator.

I roll my eyes, yes it had been something more. He had stopped the whole elevator just to pleasure me.

ESinclair: Oh yes how could I forget that?

CClark: Tease.

ESinclair: Me? Psssshhh no.

CClark: How long are you going to be in meetings tonight?

ESinclair: Until eleven. :(

CClark: Where at?

ESinclair: Drinks at some bar I think. Why?

CClark: Because I want to pick you up and bring you home with me. I actually miss having you in bed. :(

I frown at the idea of Christian missing me in bed.

ESinclair: Me?

CClark: Yes you.

ESinclair: Um you're going to hate me for saying this. I might not be in bed all weekend...

CClark: What? Why???

ESinclair: Two words. One place. New York.

CClark: This weekend?

ESinclair: Yes.

I stare at the computer for several minutes until I accept the fact that he's not going to answer.

When the phone rings I pick up immediately, "Harvey Inc."

Emerson? Christian isn't answering his phone.

I frown, "Oh well he's on the phone Mrs. Clark. Would you like me to tell him your on the line?"

No, no. It's just odd that he ignored my call. Um I hate to ask you this, but I spoke to Victoria about the party...she says you three have had some disagreements.

I'm surprised by this, "Well from what I know those were cleared up. It was only over the centerpiece."

Hmm...well Victoria over reacts a lot. I'll let you get back to work. I'll call Christian back myself. Bye Emerson.

"Goodbye Mrs. Clark." 

As soon as I hang up the phone buzzes, I have an interviewer coming in a few minutes. It's last minute, for a school newspaper. The girls name is Emma Wasson. Let her in when she gets here.

"Alright."

Twenty minutes later a girl walks in, blondish red hair, I guess almost strawberry blonde, blue eyes, her hair in a bun, and a simple 3/4 sleeve black dress on with a pair of grey heels. She smiles at me, "I'm here to see Mr. Clark."