Note to Readers
Bryce
TWO DAYS, THREE HOURS and…seven minutes.
That was how long the email had been sitting in my inbox unopened. I detested that I was reduced to even knowing how long it’d parked itself in my consciousness, taunting me with its presence. Taunting me with that gut-twisting mix of hope and bitterness I thought I was finally rid of.
How I wished it were one of those mundane work emails I’d become so adept at passing to my assistant to deal with. Then, from a safe distance, it would’ve been so easy to tell her to handle it. Or, better yet, delete it.
But here it was. Not handled. Not deleted. And about as far from mundane as it could get.
Not when her name was blaring from the ‘sender’ line: Savannah Knight.
Not when the subject matter stated three simple words: I Need You.
I tossed my pen onto the desk in disgust and shoved my chair backwards, swivelling away from the offensive email for good measure.
Fuck this.
Who the hell did she think she was? Not a single word in three and a half years. Then this?
I’d held out for over two days. Long enough for her to know I wasn’t going to jump.
A fragile but welcome burst of satisfaction settled my ire a little. She needed to know I wasn’t the same person who’d stumbled away from that quaint little chapel in sunny Sittingbourne, Kent, three summers ago a pathetic, emotional wreck.
That man was long gone, after years of living on the edge of ‘Will we? Won’t we?’ was definitively answered once and for all: We won’t. We never will.
In his place was someone I respected better but didn’t always like. A man whose future and focus were as steadfast as a striking sledgehammer.
I might have deluded myself into thinking I was different once upon a time, that I could be softer, less… Mortimer, more…something else, but that time had long passed. For better and, I suspected, worse I was a bloody Mortimer down to my last cell. It’d just taken a little longer, and ironically her help, to make me accept my true self.
Ruthless. Competitive. Take no prisoners. Crazy ambitious. And yes, sometimes, utterly selfish in my quest to achieve all the above.
So why wasn’t that ruthless selfishness directing my finger to the delete button? One quick tap on the mouse and she would be erased as definitely as she’d erased me.
Teeth gritted, I fought and irritatingly lost the fight, compulsion swivelling me back around to face my laptop. To the neat little blue rectangle of temptation taunting me with its secrets.
Open me. Read me.
With a tight curse, I clicked on it, my greedy eyes devouring the words.
Bryce,
I know this is out of the blue so…surprise! It’s a been a while, huh? Guess we’ve both been crazy busy.
Anyway, a little bird told me you’re opening a brand spanking new building in Singapore. Congrats on all your awesome accomplishments, btw.
But I’ll get to the point. I need you.
I cursed that traitorous little flip in my gut when I lingered on those three words. Then forced myself to read on.
More specifically, I need a space in your building for the launch of my flagship store.
My team have researched several locations and they all agree your building will be perfect for my needs.
Another little bird told me you haven’t yet accepted a bid for the ground and first floors. If that’s true—and I really hope it is!—I’d love to be considered for an initial five-year lease of the space.
If my info is wildly inaccurate, then let me know.
Look forward to hearing from you.
Best,
Savannah
Anger blazed in my chest. Singeing. Devastating. So this was how she was going to play it? Act as if nothing had happened? As if we’d simply…fallen out of touch and she was initiating a reconnection while she had a few minutes to spare in her busy day?
