One Weekend with the Billionaire novel Chapter 71

Leaving Julia at home is something I’m going to have to figure out how to do more effectively because walking away from her this morning was almost physically painful. I wish I would’ve talked to her about the situation with Jeff the night before. I should’ve known she was too smart not to have known something was going on.

I sit behind my desk and flip through some papers, not really looking at any of them. I know I have to figure out a way to concentrate on my work because it has to get done whether or not I can focus on it. I spend an hour or so looking through the files I have to approve, seeing very little of what’s written on the papers. I sign off on a few things that I know my top staff members have already looked over so there’s a pretty good chance they are fine. I know that it isn’t okay for me not to do my work because I am distracted, but at the same time… I can’t control my thoughts today.

My eyes are drawn through the window where I see that Jeff Thompson has his phone in his hand a lot today. It looks like he is texting almost every time I look over. At least he is not watching inappropriate movies. Or maybe it would be better if he were. I have more monitoring on his office now than ever before. If I were to catch him breaking the rules again, it might be easier for me to get rid of him or even get out of the lawsuit. But it doesn’t look like that is what he’s doing at the moment. It doesn’t look like he’s working either. I wish I could fire him for that.

Cindy knocks on the door. I know it’s her because she knocks a certain way. I’m glad for the distraction, even if I have no idea what it is she might want to talk to me about. I suck in a deep breath and hope that it has nothing to do with Jeff.

"Come in, Cindy," I say, trying to make my voice upbeat so she won’t detect the frustration I’d been enduring all morning, but when I see her face, I can tell I’m not fooling anyone.

"Hello, Mr. Merriweather," she says, cocking her head to the side slightly with a sympathetic look, the sort of expression someone might wear if your dog just died. "How are you?"

"Well, I’m sure it’ll all work out," she says, that sympathetic look still on her face. I nod, not wanting or willing to say anything more. She reaches across my desk and pats my shoulder before she turns to walk out.

I haven’t been expecting to hear anything from the lawyers today. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about working with lawyers it’s that they never work quickly. Expecting results in a day, or even a week, is ridiculous. I’ll be lucky if this doesn’t drag out for months or years. Still, Cindy is just asking because she cares about me. I thank her again, and she heads out.

As soon as the office door closes, I don’t reach for the new files, the ones I know I can approve immediately. Instead, I turn to look out my window at Jeff Thompson and see him pacing his office, squeezing the bridge of his nose, talking on the phone. He looks troubled, and for the first time since I’ve arrived in the office, I find a smile on my face that isn’t forced.