Mondays (The Wait Book 2)

by Harper Bentley

  “Come on, honey,” I said, standing and picking her up to carry her to bed.

  “Please, don’t go,” she murmured in her sleep and I knew she was dreaming of one of our arguments about my promotion.

  The next evening just before five, I sat in Mr. Hartford’s office having messaged him that morning to set up a meeting. I now waited for him to get off the phone.

  “Yes, Dora, the pink one. I don’t know. Did you look in the closet? Yes. On the hanger. Good. Good. Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.” He hung up and shook his head. “Women.”

  I wanted to say, “Tell me about it,” but what did I know. At almost twenty-seven, I’d already been married and divorced and was having trouble convincing the latest woman to stick around. Jesus.

  “What can I do for you, Griffin?”

  I was nervous, but this was my fucking future, so I went for it. “Well, sir, I know it might sound like I’m prying or even that I’m being ungrateful, but that’s not it at all.”

  “What is it, son?”

  “You met my girlfriend, Birdie Chapman, when she was here in January investigating the books.” He nodded. “Well, she’s having a tough time with the fact that I might have to move away from New York City when I get my promotion. So, I was wondering if you had any idea where I might go?”

  He looked at me for a moment before speaking. “Do you love this girl, Griffin?”

  “I do. She’s my life, Mr. Hartford.”

  “And I’m assuming she loves you?”

  “She tells me she does,” I said with a halfhearted chuckle.

  “If she loves you, she’ll go with you.” He came from a time period where women hadn’t really worked outside the home and went wherever their husbands’ jobs had taken them, so to him, I know it seemed cut and dried.

  “But, sir, if I may?” At his nod, I continued. “Her job is very important to her. She loves it. And she grew up here. All her family and friends are here. I’m just afraid if I end up too far away, it’ll be the end of us.”

  “Son, I know it’s tough when you’re young. You think you’ve found the right girl then it all falls apart.” A realization struck him. “You just had that happen, am I correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you thought this first wife was the right girl, but apparently, she wasn’t. How do you know this one now is right?”

  He did have a fucking point, but still.

  “I don’t. But what I do know is that I love her. And I don’t want to lose her.”

  “It might be a choice you’ll have to make.” He sighed. “I know I’ve not been a lot of help here and I’m sorry. But if you’ll remember the talk we had a while back about burning bridges, I think you’ll have your answer.”

  He was right. He really wasn’t helping. Fuck. “But may I ask if you have any idea at all where I might be going?”

  “If you had more seniority, and had a COO position already, we could pull some strings and keep you here. But that’s not the case.”

  That wasn’t what I’d inquired about so I waited for him to answer my question.

  “Right now, it looks like you might be headed to Cleveland.”

  That wasn’t too bad. I could handle Cleveland. But could Birdie?

  “I know it’s a tough decision, but I’m confident you’ll make the right one.” He stood, apparently finished with our talk. “Goodnight, Griffin.”

  I stood as well. “Goodnight, sir.”

  On the cab ride home, I played a game with myself.

  When I got to my apartment, if Birdie was there—we’d traded keys in February—that meant she’d agree to go with me to Cleveland and we’d live happily ever after. If she wasn’t there, then that meant I’d lost her and we were over.

  “Be here, be here,” I mumbled as I punched in the code then walked up the stairs to the second floor. I turned the key in the lock and opening the door, smelled something amazing. “Birdie?” I called and got no answer. Hm.

  Going into the kitchen, I saw that the timer on the stove was counting down, and opening the oven, saw a homemade lasagna baking.

  “Birdie?” I hollered as I closed the oven door. When she still didn’t answer, I pulled out my phone and called her.

  “Hey, you!” she answered brightly.

  “Hi, honey. Where are you?”

  “I had to run home to get some Italian bread. Doesn’t it smell fabulous in there?”

  “It does. You heading this way?”

  “Be right there.”

  We hung up and now I rationalized. Although she hadn’t technically been here when I’d walked in, she’d been here before that; therefore, I told myself, I won the game and she’d agree to come with me to Cleveland. Pulling a beer from the fridge, I stood and did a fist pump before popping the top and taking a long pull.

  Funny how we can convince ourselves that important shit will happen because we’ve won at a silly little mental game we made up on the fly.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” she called as she came in the front door. “How was work?”

  She gave me a quick kiss as she came into the kitchen and opened the bread, slicing it and putting it on a baking sheet. Then she’d butter it, broil it, sprinkle garlic salt on it, and I’d eat the hell out of it because that shit was amazing.

  “It was okay. I got a new account today, so that’s good.”

  “Great!” She turned on the oven light and looked to see if the lasagna was ready then standing, she adjusted the timer to go for three more minutes.

  “What about you?” I asked.

  She turned and leaned back against the counter. “I’m stuck again. Can’t find where all the funds are being bled to. But I will.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, you will.”

  We ate dinner, made pleasant small talk, went to bed, made love and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  And I’d failed yet again to mention I’d be leaving in a matter of weeks but was still holding out hope that she’d be going with me.

  Fuck.

  When I’d finally told her I had to be at my new job in a little over two weeks and that it was probably going to be in Cleveland, her face had fallen and she’d cried.

  I’d begged her to go with me.

  She’d told me she didn’t know if she could. Her life was here, her job was here.

  I’d said, “But I’d be there.”

  She’d cried some more and I’d let it drop.

  I’d finally decided.

  It was Monday of the next week, Cleveland had been confirmed, I had to report there next week, and I was taking her to dinner to ask her.

  I had a little blue box inside my jacket pocket that I’d surprise her with at just the right time.

  And I was nervous as fuck.

  “I’m stuffed. But this place was fantastic,” Birdie said, then stared defeatedly down at her plate that was still half full.

  We were seated on the veranda of a restaurant that overlooked the city and I was getting more nervous with every passing moment. I downed the rest of my scotch hoping to build my courage.

  “You sure you don’t want any wine?” I asked for the third time.

  “No, I’m fine, Beck,” she replied with a chuckle.

  Well, it was now or never.

  I took her hand and looked her in the eye, my heart pounding in my chest and said, “You know I love you with everything I am, Birdie. You’re my heart, my soul, my everything.”

  She smiled sweetly, her face aglow with the last rays of the sunset.

  “You’re the reason I wake up in the morning, Birdie, why I can make it through every single day. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  I stood and reached inside my jacket to pull out the box. Then going to her, I knelt on one knee at her side and looked up to see her crying.

  I opened the box to show her the ring I’d picked that I’d felt was perfect for her. A ring that I hadn’t given one single fuck that it’d cost more than a year’s worth of r
ent.

  “Please tell me you want that too. Birdie, would you make my world complete and be my wife?”

  I heard various “ooohs and “aaahs” coming from the other patrons around us but my focus was on her.

  She glanced at the ring and let out a loud sob, her shaky hand coming up to cover her mouth.

  “Baby,” I prompted.

  She looked up at me and through her tears suddenly blurted, “I’m pregnant!” She then jumped out of her chair and ran into the restaurant.

  I think I was in shock because it took a moment before I realized I was still on bended knee in front of an empty chair. I finally stood and looked around at everyone and hollered, “I’m gonna be a dad!”

  They all applauded and cheered then my brain caught up with the situation and I ran inside to find my soon-to-be-wife. Looking around, I saw a waiter point to the glass elevator, so I made my way there, but she was gone. I’d have taken the stairs but we were on the thirtieth floor so fuck that. I waited impatiently for the car to return.

  Pulling out my phone, I called her but got no answer.

  “Hurry the fuck up,” I muttered under my breath as I waited on the world’s slowest elevator. Jesus. It finally arrived and getting in with several other people we rode slowly down to the lobby.

  I ran out to the street but didn’t see her, so I hailed a cab to take me home. I called her again but she still wasn’t answering.

  Fifteen minutes later, I arrived at my apartment and called her name as I went in but she wasn’t there. I ran to her apartment and did the same but she was nowhere to be found.

  “Goddamn it!” I yelled when I was out on the street again, and made a couple that’d been heading my way swerve to give me a wide berth.

  I called her phone again and this time left a message. “Birdie, baby, where are you? Please, please call me back and let me know you’re okay.”

  I went inside my apartment, sat on the couch and stared at the vase Birdie had bought that sat on the coffee table. What seemed like an hour later but had only been fifteen minutes, I got a text.

  Text Message—Mon, May 29, 8:57 p.m.

  Birdie: I’m at Jaden’s and I’m fine. I love you…but I can’t go

  I threw my phone across the room where it hit the wall and shattered into a million pieces.

  Just like my heart.

  “Come with me,” I pleaded.

  “I can’t,” she said, tears running down her face.

  “Then you don’t really love me,” I replied, and walked out the door.

  I rode numbly to the airport in the back of a cab wondering what my future would hold now.

  I was going to be a father but she wouldn’t come with me and let me be a daddy.

  I’d asked her to be my wife and she’d run away.

  And just before I left, I’d given her one last chance to change her mind, but she didn’t love me enough to even reconsider.

  In the airport, I sat blindly staring at a young couple with a newborn wondering how that felt.

  When the plane boarded, I shuffled along with everyone else not caring about anything at all.

  As the plane took off and reached the air, I gazed below at the city I was leaving behind, the city where the woman I loved wasn’t willing to sacrifice anything for me because although she said she loved me, I knew she just didn’t love me enough.

  I’d had to walk away from everything I loved in the world that morning and wondered if the rest of the day could get better.

  And then I remembered.

  It couldn’t.

  Because it was a fucking Monday.

  Sundays (The Wait, Book 3) coming 2018!

  Sneak peek of Thursdays (The Wait, Book 1) coming up!

  Sneak peek of TC Matson’s

  No Holds (The Fighter Series #4) Coming up!

  Acknowledgments

  To Franca, Mel & Sam, I know I thank you every single time but I mean it every single time too. You guys are the best of the best of the best! Thank you for always being there for me! It makes my heart so happy to know that I can text/message/email and you all are there in a flash. I love you all TONS! ♥

  To the Harlots & Hellbenders, Oh, how you lovelies never cease to amaze me! To Shannon, Michelle, Gemma & Swess especially, thank you for your endless support & promoting my books! You guys all rock my friggin’ world! ♥ you hard!

  Anne Mercier, Your friendship means the world to me! You are the most generous and sweetest person ever! Knowing I can text/message/call/send smoke signals at any time & you’re there no matter what makes me flove you even more. Cage match 2017 fast approaching! Can’t wait to give you a big ol’ slobbery cheek smooch & great big bearhug! Love you much! Xo ♥

  TC Matson, Thank you for always being there when I fall (and for not pointing or laughing too hard when I do) I lobe you gobs & heaps & tons! You know all this & I’ll text you in a few LOL ♥

  Erin Spencer, Thank you for always hooking me up at the last minute. I’m thinking you’re starting to figure out my MO now so I’m past the shocking you stage. ♥ you more!

  To the many bloggers who’ve spread the word about my books, thank you x a kajillion. Know that you are appreciated GOBS!

  To anyone who’s ever emailed/messaged/texted/whatever other medium there is to encourage me or tell me you loved one of my books, THANK YOU! It means the world to me! ♥

  And to the readers, this is all for you. Thank you for making my dreams come true ♥

  About the Author

  USA Today Best Selling author Harper Bentley writes about hot alpha males who love hard. She’s taught high school English forever, and although she’s managed to maintain her sanity regardless of her career choice, jumping into the world of publishing her own books goes to show that she might be closer to the ledge than was previously thought.

  After traveling the nation in her younger years as a military brat, having lived in Alaska, Washington State and California, she now resides in Oklahoma with her teenage daughter, two dogs and one cat, happily writing stories that she hopes her readers will enjoy.

  You can contact her at harperbentleywrites@gmail.com, at harperbentleywrites.com, on Facebook or on Twitter @HarperBentley

  Check out other titles by Harper Bentley:

  The Powers That Be series:

  Gable (The Powers That Be Book 1)

  Zeke (The Powers That Be Book 2)

  Loch (The Powers That Be Book 3)

  Ryker (The Powers That Be Book 4)

  Drake (The Powers That Be Book 5)

  CEP series:

  Being Chased (CEP #1)

  Unbreakable Hearts (CEP #2)

  Under the Gun (CEP #3)

  The High Rise series

  The Fighter

  Serenity Point series:

  Bigger Than the Sky (Serenity Point Book 1)

  Always and Forever (Serenity Point Book 2)

  True Love series:

  Discovering Us (True Love #1)

  Finding Us (True Love #2)

  Finally Us (True Love Book 3)

  True Love: The Trilogy: The Complete Boxed Set

  The Wait series:

  Thursdays (The Wait Book 1)

  http://harperbentleywrites.com/

  Prologue

  We always know how it will end.

  Always.

  If you think I’m wrong, stop fooling yourself.

  And I can tell you exactly how it ends.

  It’ll be the one thing about the person that made you fall in love with them in the first place that eventually becomes what you hate most about them in the end.

  With Beck it was his rational side.

  At first I loved that he was so pragmatic and practical. Logical.

  So of course, I now hate that about him.

  We were twenty-four.

  We fell in love.

  We promised we’d make it no matter what.

  I haven’t talked to him in two years.

  So much for fucking promises.,
r />   How do you live with yourself when the woman you promised to love forever is dying yet you find the goddamned time to connect with another?

  That was my life.

  I don’t expect you to feel sorry for me. It was my fault.

  But there was something about Birdie that drew me to her.

  Made me want her.

  Even as my own wife lay waiting to live again.

  Christ.

  But things have a way of working out in the end, even if we fucking hate everything about it.

  I haven’t talked to Birdie in two years. I miss her. I still want her.

  I just can’t seem to justify it in my head to have what I want.

  Chapter 1—Birdie

  I always thought that when you found “the one,” life somehow became easier. But I soon discovered that’s not always the case.

  I met Mason Chapman when we were sophomores in high school, and, dang, was he charming. Handsome. Popular. His sun-bronzed brown hair seemed to do whatever the heck he wanted it to with little effort—usually hanging somewhat long on the back of his neck—which was just hot. He had soulful brown eyes that I believed could make even the hardest heart melt. Finish the whole thing off with that athletic body of his—I was pretty sure the school could’ve sold tickets to all us giddy girls so we could view him during track season when he removed his shirt in practice—and, holy crap, he was just something else. He’d caught my sixteen-year-old eye immediately. Of course, he’d caught the eye of every other girl in school too, he was that cute.

  And the fight was on.

  Well, not literally, but I did fight for him and let me tell you, it wasn’t easy. I mean, imagine a seventeen-year-old boy surrounded daily by swoony teenage girls all vying for one second of his attention as he fended them off like he was some boy band hottie and they were contending to be his number one groupie.