Second Chance Mess (Bad News Billionaires #1) - Lucia Jordan Page 0,2
phone back on and checked to see if Brooke had texted. My head was still swirling from all the Bloody Marys on the plane, which explained why I went ahead and tried to text her again just to see if she’d had a change of heart and unblocked my number. But she hadn’t, and when the text returned as undeliverable, I flew into a bit of manic rage.
How could she have broken up with me over text? Who even did shit like that nowadays? Not only had she been my girlfriend for months, but she was also my employee. Adults didn’t break up with each other over text and block each other’s numbers unless they were in some sort of awful and abusive relationship, which we definitely were not. I was so mad that I couldn’t see straight as I tried to weave through the people in the airport and get to an Uber on the street level. I knew that I was mostly hurt and upset, but anger was a lot easier emotion to swallow than the distress of having just lost a girl that I truly cared about.
Okay, so yeah, I hadn’t been the most stellar boyfriend the past couple of weeks, but I had been super busy preparing for this trip to Spokane, and it was a good thing I had done all the work that I had because my company landed the contract. Then there was also that thing with Chelsea, the woman in the photo that somehow blew up all over the internet. I had been planning to talk to Brooke about that when I got back home following my trip, but she didn’t give me a chance.
I heard Max’s voice in the back of my head as if he were my little cricket conscience telling me that I’d actually had plenty of chances to talk to her before my trip but that I chose to stall on it instead because I took for granted that she would still be here when I got back.
“Hey, man, welcome back,” Max’s voice said through my phone’s speaker as I got into an Uber and handed the driver the address to my apartment downtown. “Did you land the deal?”
I needed to call and tell Max about it, not because I needed someone to talk to, but because I needed someone to tell me I wasn’t a complete idiot. In hindsight, I probably should have realized that Max was too honest a guy to stroke my ego. The Uber driver looked at me in the rearview mirror as we pulled away from the airport. I was hoping that since the Bloody Marys were starting to wear off that I didn’t look as bad as I felt.
“Max, you were right,” I said.
“About what?”
“She’s gone.”
“Who’s gone?” he asked. Then there was a moment of silence over the phone, and he realized what I meant. “Ah, man, I’m sorry. I really liked Brooke, and she was good for your stubborn ass, too.”
Here it comes…
“I tried to tell you.”
He was right; he had. And I was too full of myself and too ignorant to how Brooke was feeling to listen to him.
“I know you did,” I said.
“What are you going to do now?” Max asked.
“Well, I landed the company that lucrative contract in Spokane, so starting tomorrow, I’ll have a lot of work to do. Tonight though, I think I’m going to go out.”
“You really think that’s the best idea?” Max said. “Why don’t you try calling Brooke instead?”
“I did. She’s blocked my number.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. I just can’t sit around and do nothing tonight, or I’ll drive myself crazy. I should be out celebrating the big success of my trip, not moping around my apartment and staring at the useless phone. You want to come out with me?” I asked, already knowing the answer was no.
“Nah, I’m just gonna chill in my van tonight and work on some new designs to help me to clear my head. You should try something similar.”
Max was the epitome of a free spirit and borderline nomad. He had converted an old Volkswagen van into a tiny home on wheels and had tricked out the entire interior to look like it was something straight from middle earth. He was an amazing craftsman, and his work was unparalleled. He was also one of the most down-to-earth and reclusive guys I knew, definitely not someone who jumped at the chance to go out partying in downtown Seattle at night.