Sinbound (18+) | ✓

31 | overseas

31 | overseas

SIX MONTHS LATER

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"Ms. Harper." Gregory Edwards sighs as he watches me from his seat at the other end of the conference table. It's another early morning at Polaris Incorporated and another day of me trying to convince my client to partner with a new company, "We've been over this. I've decided to partner overseas."

I exhale, well aware of his intentions with his business. When I first got the job here as Mr. Edwards' advisor, it was a huge step in me working as a freelance business consultant. I'd already had contacts from Luxury Travels which made everything a lot easier. I just transferred my energy into another form of advising. "I know, sir. You want to take it to Valencia, but —"

"But nothing, Monique." He pinches the bridge of his nose and gazes at me, "Did you even sleep last night?"

"Yes, I did."

I lied. I didn't.

Most of my night consisted of me trying to come up with a new plan to keep Mr. Edwards from Spain and a contingency plan should that first plan not work out.

My thirty minute presentation did nothing to sway him, despite me pulling out stacks of facts and statistics that shows it would be best if he stays local or even national.

Anywhere but Spain.

"Don't lie to me, Mo."

Along with being my client, Mr. Edwards is like a father to me. We've been working together for six months, me receiving beautiful paychecks from him for my work. Though I'm the advisor, he's always checking on me and making sure I slept the night before and ate before work and ate lunch.

Much more of a father to me than my real one. He looks one too — with two twenty year old daughters, he dons salt and pepper hair and a couple of wrinkles.

I sigh and run a hand through my curls that I refreshed after my late night wash and go, "No, I didn't. I couldn't."

He watches me carefully, "Up for breakfast?"

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"This isn't like you, Mo." Gregory sips his black coffee and watches me over the rim, honey brown eyes inspecting me. Of course, I'm disheveled — much different from my usual sophistication.

But, as the deal comes nearer to being closed, I'm just plagued with the memory of all the late nights I spent trying to reach out to Matteo and try to get an explanation.

And all the times I was sent to voicemail immediately as if he'd blocked me. This was months ago, until Cass spent a week of her summer with me and noticed my habits before snapping me out of it.

"Talk to me." He urges, resting his hand flat against the coffee table in the cute café he'd taken me to.

I cast my eyes to the french toast in front of me, reminded of the cute shop Sweet Delights over in that city.

Seeing as I have nothing to say, Gregory sighs and leans back in his seat, "You've been trying to advise against partnering with the owners of the Grand Palace brand for weeks, but, as much as I trust you with my business, I'm a tedious man and did my own research. There is nothing wrong with them. As a matter of fact, the owner, Matteo Romano donates his time and money to a local Spanish orphanage at least once a month. He gives to his community and he's a good man, Monique. So, why should I not partner with him? One good reason."

I sigh and drop my head into my hands. He's right. I have no business keeping him from making good decisions for his company just because of my personal reasons.

I'm so selfish.

"Why do you say that?"

Fuck. I really need to stop thinking out loud.

I look back up at him and brush my curls away from my face, "Nothing, Greg. I just..."

He tilts his head and narrows his eyes, "What? Are you familiar with his company or something?" He pauses, "Are you familiar with him?"

Looking back at him, I don't want to lie. I don't want to brush it off like it was nothing, because what Matteo and I had was something. Or at least it was for me. As far as I know, he has a wife.

I nod, "Yeah, I was."

He huffs in surprise before leaning forward, propping his elbows up on the table, "Was it him that ended it?"

"I don't —" I exhale through my nose, "I don't really want to talk about it, Greg."

He nods, "Okay. We don't have to talk about it if you're not comfortable."

One thing about Gregory — he knows when to tread lightly and when not to tread at all. Now is one of those times. That's why I'm confused when he clears his throat awkwardly.

My face drops as he gives me an apologetic glance. I lean back and groan, "No. Don't tell me..."

He winces, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you guys had history."

What we're talking about, ladies and gentlemen, is the tradition Gregory has to host his new business partners to dinner in his restaurant the night a deal is closed. Since I'm his advisor and I help with the deal in the first place, I always attend.

"You don't have to attend this time, Monique."

"No." I say through clenched teeth, "This is my job. I'll go."

Time to drown myself in drinks to prepare for this weekend.

and here is the first chapter of part twooooooo!!! ✌🏾😊✌🏾

monique working freelance now lmfaoaoaaoaoa

how y'all think the dinner gon go?