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Mr. Mitchell: Chapter 5

Jim

Last night was more of a get comfortable night, I believe, for both Avery and me. I felt strange ditching my connection to the company, European and American-based offices, but when I reconnected with Alex during my late night and his afternoon, all was fine. In fact, we both determined it might work for me to have a few days of not being glued to a phone or computer. I could check-in during the evenings when I felt Avery was okay with me disappearing, and if there were anything important to handle, Alex would contact me on my other personal line. The line that wasn’t connected to my email or business.

God only knew how I’d handle this disconnect. I was a control freak with that company, and even though I knew that Alex could run it well, I had my concerns about pulling back like this. I didn’t honestly know why I felt compelled to take this time away from work. I wasn’t burnt out, but Avery had brought to my attention the fact that I was chained down by the phone whether I was inside the office or outside, and fuck it if she wasn’t right.

It was why I didn’t have a life. It’s why I had a driver take me everywhere, and it’s definitely why I wouldn’t be able to learn jack-shit else about this woman who seemed to lighten me up when I was around her. So, that was it. I was checking out, taking a mini-vacation, and actively trying to get to know this woman who’d captured my attention.

My morning sprint came to a halt when I spotted her, running on one of the hills. She seemed to stop at the same time I did, and we both jogged through the meadow of my hundred-plus acre estate.

“Did a ghost chase you out of the house?” I asked with a smile, catching my breath.

She laughed, leaning over on her knees. “Why would you ask that?” She turned her head up and squinted at me, smiling.

I loved her sexy, scratchy voice. “I believe it was you who called me a poor host to allow you to sleep alone in what you believed was a haunted room?”

She rose and laughed again. “That was the booze talking.”

“And to think, I almost fell for it and took advantage of you while under the influence.”

“Well, I wasn’t that drunk. I might have been half-serious in wanting more than just your badass cooking.”

Fuck me. “Don’t tempt me.” I smiled. “As I said, I hate to fail, and to fail in my new role as a host would piss me off.”

“You’re too much, Jim.”

“Seriously, though.” I looked around at the morning sun, spreading its light over the peaceful land. “What are you doing out at seven in the morning?”

“I was up at six, and I took off for a run if you couldn’t tell by the sight of me.” She looked around. “It could be the best morning run I’ve had in my life.”

“Looks like morning runs are another thing I’ll be sure to join you on.”

“Yeah, of course. I’d like that.”

“Here,” I said, leading us over to a walnut tree. “There’s nothing like experiencing a sunrise in the country.”

We sat next to the tree, and I reclined against it.

“So,” she said, not feeling ashamed to sit on the grass and dirt next to me. “I wonder what the history is with all this land. Like, if you could put on binoculars and travel back into time and see what was happening out in those fields.”

“Time-traveling binoculars?” I chuckled.

“Why not?” She shrugged. “You look through them and see what was taking place during a certain period in time.”

“Which time-period would you wish to look out and see on those lands?”

“They mentioned Henry the Eighth reigned in the 1500s; was he out here?”

I smiled. “Of all England’s history, you seem to be fascinated by the tyrant King Henry the Eighth, eh?”

“Well, I think he wasn’t horrible in the beginning,” she said. “He just turned awful at the end.”

“He wasn’t horrible before or after he sent his first wife away in shame?” I smirked.

“I’m looking through my historical binoculars,” she looked pointedly out to the lush hills. “It’s the year 1500 and Henry,” she pulled her lips up on one side and grinned—a grin so cute I wanted to capture it with my own lips, “sent his first wife away.”

“Very well, then.” I softly laughed. “Henry would have been young and fit, and since he enjoyed taking his court with him in his travels, he would have most likely been in your binoculars of time travel, enjoying a morning ride with his lover, Anne Boleyn.”

“So fucking cool,” she said. “You really think that?”

I laughed. “Who knows? I am merely assuming, but he was all over the countryside. He fled the city on numerous occasions to leave the chaos, to dodge the plague, or, more importantly, to flaunt his health and wealth to his people. He was a notorious show-off.”

“Health and wealth. I like that.” She looked back from where she sat up in front of me and touched her finger to my chest. “Sorta like you.”

“Do not compare me to Henry the Eighth.” I laughed.

“I’m comparing you to his young, healthy, and happy years.”

“Awe, that makes it all the better. Even better for you keeping your head on your shoulders,” I said with a wink.

She relaxed against the tree. “Do you have family out here? Or in the states?”

“Maybe it’s best we put the time-traveling binoculars back on and search for another monarch.”

“Answer the question, King Henry.” She laughed.

If it weren’t for her bold and adorable way of speaking to me, I would have clamped my mouth shut on something I’d never shared with anyone outside of my close friends and what my family knew.

“My father passed away after I graduated from college,” I said.

“Oh, God.” She covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. You look like you’re maybe about five years out of college. Was it recently? I’m so sorry.”

“Ten years now.” I smiled. “It’s okay. His legacy lives on well through the business he started. My brother and I have done everything we can to honor him through our actions. I think, hopefully, he would be proud of us.”

“And your mom?”

“I don’t speak that woman’s name.” The words came out harsher than I expected they would. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. She was and still is a nightmare at times. Jake, my younger brother, was too young to remember when she was physically abusive and brought drug-addict dickheads into our house, so I’m the one who got stuck with that.”

“That’s awful,” she said, her eyes wide. “I’m really sorry. You both were young, then. Just you and your brother?”

“Yeah. I was seven, and Jake was five. I’m glad Jake didn’t remember her as I did. Thank God my dad put us before everything. He had a surveillance system secretly installed and caught her fucking druggies in our home, forcing Jake and me to stay outside until she got her goddamn drugs and whatever the fuck else she wanted. It was a nightmare.” I shook my head. “Sorry about that. I never speak about her to anyone, not even to my brother. She’s a piece of shit, and I should’ve left it at that.”

“Is that why you took the phone from me on the plane? I’m guessing you must’ve heard me mention Derek being an addict?”

“I heard enough to be reminded of a horrible parent with a poor kid involved to want to intervene impulsively. Again, I’m sorry I did that, and if it does cause you further issues with your ex, I’ll be sure to give you my private number, and I’ll help in any way you need.”

“Derek’s all talk,” she said, but I could tell he was a lot more than that. I wasn’t pressing, though. “I do appreciate what you did.”

“I’m glad for that.” I stood. “How about breakfast in the little town you appeared to be enamored with before we arrived here?”

“The storybook town?”

“Yes,” I said, turning to walk toward home. “It’s a lovely village, and after losing my shit about my dirt bag mother, I think you might need a cleansing that only the peace in that town can offer.”

“Give me a break.” She leaned against me as an old friend would, and I loved the gesture. “I get it. I’m just sorry you and your brother went through that. You had a great father to get her out of your life.”

“Just like you’re an amazing mom for working on getting an addicted parent out of your daughter’s life.”

“Don’t go that far. In Derek’s opinion, I’m the same piece of shit you see in your mom.” She laughed.

“If only Derek’s opinion were of any value to me.” I smirked, prompting her sexy little giggle to lighten up the demons of my past I’d brought into play.

I needed to slow down, I was getting too close, and it was just through simple conversation with a woman I enjoyed.


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