Chelsea set her glass down on the kitchen island, barely paying attention. Her fingertips, painted with a soft neutral polish, slipped under the hem of his shirt. She let them trail around his waist before finding the buckle at the front of his pants.
A quiet thud echoed as the belt hit the floor.
Men. Sometimes the only way to deal with their temper was to take them to bed. Why waste time talking in circles when she could let him burn off his frustration in a way they’d both enjoy?
The phone on the nightstand started buzzing, its vibration low but insistent.
Sweat dripped onto Chelsea's face. She reached up and nudged him. “Is that your phone?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It could be work.”
“All the more reason to ignore it.”
What good ever came out of Oliver calling him, anyway? It was always the same. Oliver wanted him to stop making a fuss and get back to work, like he was some kind of machine. Not happening. Even a workhorse needed a break sometimes.
“Mr. Padilla, Mr. McKee isn’t picking up,” Lincoln reported, sounding stressed.
“Starlit Path has always been Mr. McKee’s personal account,” he reminded.
Pacific Capital’s top floor was all glass and sunlight, but Lincoln looked tense as he glanced at Oliver with his phone in hand. Even Hector, who was usually all about work, had decided to disappear. If he wanted some time off, fine, but couldn’t he have handed things over first? Instead he just vanished, leaving the Starlit Path team cooling their heels in the conference room, waiting to finalize a deal that could make or break their whole quarter. Did Hector not care about his bonus? His end-of-year payout? The dividends?



VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver)
Theo... Oliver which is it. Your getting the names confused 😕...
It hasn't been updated for the last 2 days, please do not abandon this book....