Page 55 of The Grumpy Billionaire

I’m scribbling furiously. This is good. Very good.

It’s okay. I made progress. It feels good to have made progress.

I circle back around to my desk thinking again about Stella. We never got to talk about rules, but we should. It’s still a good idea. I could let her know that our little interlude was an anomaly.

I grab my phone, about to text Brenda to have admin send her up, but then I pause when I realize I’m deceiving myself.

I just want to see her.

I put down my phone and go about my day like a rational human being and not an obsessed Neanderthal in the habit of lying to himself.

The best thing is to keep away from each other—no meetings. No walking by. No nothing.

I pushed her from my mind once before.

I can do it again.

* * *

Walkinginto work the next morning, it comes to me that I really do need to at least talk to her about my wrong behavior.

And I think Stella would appreciate ground rules. She needs to know that I’m in no way interested in continuing a physical relationship, and more communication is always better than less. The presence of rules is always better than the absence of rules.

Even Stella would agree to that.

Or not. Stella likes to go in unexpected directions, which is doubtless why she’s so good at her job with those attention-grabbing reels.

Back around the Woodward dinner table, she’d frequently come up with original perspectives, and then act surprised when other people didn’t notice what she noticed. To Stella, the things she sees are just obvious. In fact, it would be very Stella to be surprised by the fact that her work won awards—she always did underestimate herself, though not as much as her family did.

At any rate, we can put guard rails around our behavior.

I text Brenda to have admin send her up to finish the project.

A few minutes later Brenda forwards me a text that Tinley had forwarded to her. It’s from Stella.

Stella: Mr. Jones is confused—he doesn’t need me to come.

I get her number and text her directly.

Me: We’re not done. We need to discuss this.

Stella: We are done.

It comes to me here that she thinks I’m calling her up for sex. Of course she would think it. But she’ll see that’s not my intention—once she gets here.

Me: You may be mistaken in what you think I mean by “finished.” While the past activities associated with the project are very much over and done, not to be repeated, a quick debrief is required with some ground rules established.

Stella: No thanks.

Me: This is not a request.

Stella: Here’s some food for thought for the next time you’re tempted to throw your boss weight around.

The next message is just a photo.

Of me.

Eating pineapple.

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