Takeover: Takeover Duet Book 0 by Chelle Bliss

Author:Chelle Bliss [Bliss, Chelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bliss Ink LLC
Published: 2017-11-12T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Lauren

Twelve hours later, I stumble out of the office, completely exhausted. My head’s spinning from all the jargon and different scenarios we ran through for how to stop Cozza in its tracks.

I want a martini—scratch that, I need a martini. Probably more than one, if I’m being honest. The W Hotel’s just down the street and their bartender makes the best drinks in town. It’s my go-to place when I need to unwind after a long day, and it’s on my way home. The dark lighting and calming colors make it the perfect atmosphere to gather my thoughts and relax.

I place my order, shrug off my knee-length Michael Kors coat, and take a seat on a barstool, far from anyone who may want to chitchat. I watch the bartender mix the martini, waiting for my first sip while my mouth salivates and I take in my exhausted features in the mirror behind the bar.

Being on top causes more stress than I could ever fully explain to another person not in my shoes. Every employee, shareholder, and board member looks to me for leadership. Who could I go to for help when there are moments that make me question my sanity?

No one.

There isn't a single person I could share my doubts, fears, or moments of madness with who wouldn’t consider me weak. Not even my family would understand the weight I have on my shoulders. Therefore, I turn to the only good listener I know–vodka.

It helps to take the edge off without me having to spill my guts to a stranger and end up with a prescription for something that would numb my mind and make me useless as CEO. I need to stay sharp. I need to be alert and aware of the people trying to take me down and destroy Interstellar.

I lift the glass to my lips, inhaling the salty splendor before I take a small sip.

Heaven.

“Is this seat taken?” a man asks at my right, interrupting my moment of bliss as the second mouthful slides down my throat.

I motion toward the empty seat without a word, not bothering to look at him. The last thing I want to do is make small talk with a stranger. Talking means not drinking. Not drinking means thinking.

My mind’s too much of a mess, and I need to calm the chaos inside if I’m ever going to get to sleep.

Ignoring his presence, I continue savoring each sip and stare at the picture hanging above the mirror behind the bar. It’s a simple work—an aerial view of the Chicago skyline at night. Each building is lit up, standing tall and beautiful.

Everything looks unimportant from so high in the air. The people are invisible from above, the city appearing as lonely as I feel. The struggles, fears, and panic below can’t be seen, but they are happening in different people’s lives at the moment that photo was snapped.

I may dislike Trent and regret every moment I spent in his bed, but there’s one thing I miss—being close to someone.

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