“Tuesday. But don’t bother. It’s going to be a private funeral. That’s what he wanted. I’ll talk to you soon. Have a good week at work.”

“Simon, wait.”

He didn’t respond. My feelings were hurt. He shut me out. After everything we shared this weekend, and he still shut me out. Tears sprang to my eyes and I hated myself for letting them. I hated myself for thinking that I was special to him. I was nothing but another pawn in his game. A game he played frequently and was the master at.

Chapter 22

As I walked to my office, Katie jumped up from her desk and fetched me a cup of coffee. I looked at the piles of folders on my desk and sighed as I sat down in my chair.

“Good morning, Gabby. Did you hear?” She handed me a cup of coffee.

“Morning. Hear what?”

“About Mr. Young passing away. Not Simon, of course, but his grandfather.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“Are you okay?” she asked with sincerity.

“I’m just tired. I was up all night.”

“How was Vegas?”

“It was fine. The meeting went great.”

“And? Anything else?”

“Like?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I was just curious if you got to know Mr. Young better.”

“No. We’re friends and business associates, that’s all. Do me a favor and tell everyone I’m busy today. I don’t want to be disturbed unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Okay. If you need anything, let me know.” She smiled as she walked out of my office and shut the door.

The hours, the minutes, and the days passed slowly. I spent the week burying myself in my work and missing Simon. I hadn’t heard from him since that night, four days ago. The funeral had come and gone, and I thought maybe he’d be back in the office, but he never showed up. I broke down on the day of his grandfather’s funeral and sent him a text message to let him know that I was thinking of him. He didn’t respond. Not even a thank you. I met with several teams to discuss the hotel project. This was going to be Young International’s first hotel that would cater to the middle-class people with more affordable rates without cutting the luxury that made the Young name and it was my job to figure out how to do it.

It was now Friday, and as I was looking over a couple of renovation reports, Giana walked in my office, holding a bag.

“Well, look at this fancy office you have. I swear it’s better than mine.” She smiled as she stood in the doorway.

“Welcome to my home away from home.”

“I brought us lunch. You need a break.” She set the plastic bag on the desk and took a seat across from me.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”