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“Gent’s.”
We hung up, and I tossed my phone on the couch.
What kind of name wasGent’sanyway?
I ran a hand through my hair and pondered whether or not I should heed Jason’s advice and take it easy. God knew I needed a bit of a break, and even if for the evening, it would probably do me some good.
I took a quick shower and ordered room service. Nighttime had rolled in, and the Manhattan lights were magical. New York was definitely not California, and a part of me wondered if opening an office here would be a good idea.
Room service came quickly, and within half an hour, I had devoured my steak and was on my second glass of wine. Feeling antsy, I finally gave in to my workaholic self, grabbed my phone, and started scrolling through my emails. I found Jason’s and started going through everything he had sent me aboutGent’s.
The magazine had a very good following, on at least on the East Coast, it had become quite the go-to name of men’s magazines, rivalingGQandEsquire, and its distribution was quite impressive. I did see signs of its struggles, though, and with a need to expand nationally, it would need funding, which is where I came in.
The question was, even with funding, would it be enough? I was still adamant that print was not the way to go, and moving into some aggressive online strategies could putGent’sahead of the whole market for half the cost and double the exposure.
You’re jumping the gun.
I sighed, and put my phone away. Best thing to do was wait and hear what they had to say.
I turned on the TV, channel surfed until I landed on a music channel, and then went back to the window wall with my wine. I looked at my reflection and shook my head. I did look tired.
Running a multi-million-dollar corporation could do that to me.
But Jason was right. I needed a break.
Maybe after tomorrow’s meeting, I could find some way to blow off a little steam. Just kick back and take things slow for a few days. I could extend my stay to a week, maybe ten days, and just take a breather. With Jason there, I knew the company was in good hands.
I smiled. The workaholic in me was screaming bloody murder at even the thought of taking a few days off.
After my third glass of wine, I final decided to call it a night. I made my way to bed, turned off the lights, and tried to fall asleep.
Martha’s face materialized behind my closed lids, and all of a sudden, I was transported back to the cabin in the mountains. Back in the bed. Back in her arms.
I relived the memory to its fullest, every inch of her body, every kiss, every stroke of absolute pleasure. The memories rushed through my head like a whirlwind, every moment as detailed as if I were there.
And with the final image of her calm and sleeping body in my arms, I drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 10
Martha
“I think you should wear this, mommy.”
I twisted to face my son, who lingered in front of my closet, a sequined dress held up to his chest. He beamed when my eyes landed on his face. “It’s so pretty.”
I chuckled, covered the distance between us, and took the dress out of his hand. “It is, but I don’t think I can wear this, sweetheart.”
Jimmy frowned and lifted his gaze to mine. “Why not?”
“It’s too pretty to wear to a job interview,” I explained, pausing to crouch in front of him. “I’ll need something a bit more…”
“Boring?”
I reached out and ruffled his hair. “Thank you.”
Jimmy nodded, and his expression turned solemn. Wordlessly, he brushed past me, flung my closet doors open, and rifled through my clothes. When clothes started flying in every direction, I placed a hand on his shoulder and gently steered him away. Then Anne appeared in the doorway to my room and coaxed Jimmy into the living room. Moments later, I heard the TV start, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I loved my son.
