Contents
Copyright
Chapter 1: Lydia
Chapter 2: Taylor
Chapter 3: Lydia
Chapter 4: Lydia
Chapter 5: Taylor
Chapter 6: Lydia
Chapter 7: Taylor
Chapter 8: Lydia
Chapter 9: Lydia
Chapter 10: Lydia
Chapter 11: Taylor
Chapter 12: Lydia
Chapter 13: Lydia
Chapter 14: Taylor
Chapter 15: Lydia
Chapter 16: Taylor
Chapter 17: Lydia
Chapter 18: Taylor
Chapter 19: Lydia
Epilogue: Lydia
Copyright © 2020 by HAILEY SMOKE
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1: Lydia
I always thought I was a glass-half full kind of person. My friends often teased me that I’d even say an empty glass could become full again. Life just seemed so much better if you tried to look on the bright side. I had trouble feeling that way as I clicked the elevator button about thirty times like it was for a crane machine and I knew I would be grabbing that teddy bear. I wish that what was awaiting me on the top floor was going to be just as thrilling. No, I had to be late with my entire business on the line. The machine was going to shake, and I was going to lose my prize. The doors finally slid open, I basically jumped inside, and slammed my palm on the button for the top floor. I checked my grapefruit lipstick in the reflection of the metal ceiling, craning my neck to catch any smudges. My legs began to wobble as the elevator climbed. Thank god that no one else seemed to be getting off and on so I could panic in peace. I smoothed out my navy pencil skirt, checked the buttons again on my pale-yellow button up, and rolled up my oversized navy blazer to my elbows. I looked presentable and on trend, but would that save me? What on earth was I going to say to Mr. Hirano? I was late for the stupidest reason possible, and I had a feeling that the kind of company that had been around as long as Hirano Enterprises didn’t see the glass half full. They saw them as transactions to reject or accept.
The elevator ride was over too quickly. I slipped out as soon as the doors opened enough, and I headed to the boardroom the receptionist told me about. I pried the doors open and instead of a committee I saw one man sitting at the head of the table. I recognized him as the man I struggled to get on the phone to even set a time. “Mr. Hirano.”
“Ms. Maxwell.” He said sharply. He stood and took my handshake. I was always told you could tell a lot about someone by their handshake: his was firm and quick, like he wanted it over as soon as possible. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, his dark brown eyes scrutinizing my every movement as I tried to decide what chair to sit at. Did I sit across the way? Would that be awkward? The middle felt safe but too far away. Why was this meeting in such a big space? I pulled out a chair and sat down about three chairs away and set down my briefcase on the table.
“You can call me Lydia,” I offered, and smiled at him.
He cocked his eyebrows slightly and somehow looked bored. “Mr. Hirano is fine.”
“Oh. Okay” I tried to play off my intimidation with a small laugh. “Well, thank you for meeting with me today. I appreciate your interest in my business—” he cleared his throat. “Excuse me?” I tried to ask brightly.
“You are late.” His cold brown eyes stared right at me.
“Oh. Yes. Of course. I am!” I tried to turn my grimace into something like a smile. “I deeply apologize for my lateness. I had an issue I had to resolve. I made sure to call your receptionist as soon as I knew it was going to be a problem. However, I know it isn’t very professional, so I am deeply sorry, but I hope you will excuse the mistake this time and I promise to keep appointments in the future.” I had practiced those lines over and over again in my head as I ran through the Chicago streets to his office. I thought it was reasonable and showed how professional I was despite my lapse.
“What issue?”
“What?” That I hadn’t planned.
“What was the issue you had to resolve?”
“It was one of a personal nature,” I hedged. I found myself grabbing at my hair but quickly shoved my hands back to the table. It was a nervous habit, and it would only make me look more suspicious.
He leaned in over the meeting table. Even though I was a few seats away, I felt like he was hovering over me. “As a professional, you have to own up to your mistakes, in full.” It was the most he had said to me so far.
I sighed and looked down at my hands. It was wrong to lie, but the force of his gaze made me feel like I had to tell him. “There was a dog.”
“A dog.” I cringed at his tone. He sounded like he was about to scold me, like I was a child who’d done something wrong.
“I saw a dog at a cafe. The owner let me pet him and we got to talking. Honestly, I didn’t realize how much time was passing. I’m sorry. I really am.” It was a Shiba inu, I love them. It was the silliest reason to be late and I wish I hadn’t been so distracted, but I’d always
