Page 65 of The Arrogant One

“I’m looking forward to that.” She turned her face, giving me her profile. “But do you really think I’ll meet her soon?”

“If I was a betting man—and I think you know I am—I’d say you’re going to meet all my siblings soon.”

That fucking smile.

I couldn’t get enough of it.

FOURTEEN

Sadie

Ididn’t love digital to-do lists; there wasn’t enough satisfaction in crossing off each item accomplished. I would check the box, and the task would disappear as though it never existed. But it had existed, in a hard way, and it could have possibly taken me hours to complete. I wanted to see all that hard work; I didn’t want the reminder to just vanish. That was why I preferred writing my responsibilities on sticky notes. I had them in a rainbow of colors. And when I didn’t get enough satisfaction in drawing a line through the duty, I would sometimes scribble multiple lines, and when that didn’t give me enough relief, I’d use a Sharpie and black out every hint of it.

My trash was overflowing with crumpled-up sticky notes that barely had any color left—there was so much black marker covering them.

That was how my week was going.

And there was still an array of rainbow notes hanging onevery surface of my office, and when one task was finalized, ten more popped up.

Filming.

Editing.

Posting.

Commenting.

The life of an influencer.

But in between, there had been a break, where I spent an evening at a new Italian restaurant that had opened only a few months ago in the Gaslamp Quarter of San Diego. It had no more than ten tables inside; the family had relocated from Lucca, Italy, so the menu focused on flavors from their region in Tuscany.

As I sat at my desk, finishing up my glowing review—a vast improvement from last week’s disastrous experience at a new French restaurant—my phone lit up with my boss’s name on the screen.

The article would be done in less than an hour and wasn’t due until tomorrow. I wasn’t late on my deadline, and I hadn’t been since the Horned incident.

There had to be another reason for his call.

I swiped my finger across the screen. “Hello?”

“Good morning.”

I checked the time on my monitor. “Good morning—although it’s not really morning, I suppose.”

“Technically, it’s afternoon, but it’s morning to you. I assume you’re still on your first cup of coffee?”

We’d worked together for so long now that he knew the way I operated.

“I’m about to start my second cup.” I laughed.

“I won’t keep you. There’re just a few things we need to discuss. The first—yourreview of Horned.”

I leaned back in my chair, rocking, even though the motion seemed to only make me nervous. “Okay …”

“Since it was posted, viewership ofSeenis up by twelve percent with a steady and consistent rise every day.”

Not at all what I had expected to hear.

My head shook as I responded, “Wow.”