Slave to Love by Julie A. Richman Read Free Book Online Page A

very least, a Robyn Stiles type. But that’s not who I see myself with. I see myself with a woman who can give me a run for my money in the boardroom and wake up next to me in the bedroom and not give a rat’s ass that she has no make-up on and her hair looks like I’ve fucked the crap out of her. And she’s still gorgeous. I see myself with a woman who tells me, ‘I don’t shit where I eat’, and I damn well had better respect that.
    I see myself with Sierra Stone.
    And I know it’s time to get my ass back to Austin and make this right. Somehow.

He’s really handsome, his pale hazel eyes are incredibly striking and I like the way he holds my eye contact when we speak. His full, beautiful lips expand into what is a breathtaking, captivating smile. And he’s got this sun-bleached hair that is thick and full, and he keeps brushing it out of his eyes. By any definition of the word, this guy is hot. Tall, well-educated, eloquent, interesting, career-oriented. And nice. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.
    And I’m sitting here at the Salty Sow, an ultra-hip gastropub in East Austin that he chose, trying my hardest to stay engaged in the conversation and keep my mind from wandering, from wondering. Is he back in Austin? Has he even thought about me? What does he think of me?
    But the bigger question is – what is wrong with me?
    He’s a narcissistic creep who treats women like shit and I just need to get through the California event at Universal, his Austin event and the planning meetings around them. Get through that and then I’m done with him. His business totally reverts back to Cuntessa’s team. And then hopefully, this totally OCD obsession I have with him will evaporate.
    I haven’t heard a word my date has said to me in the last minute. His name is Tyler and I need to join him at this dinner and come back from wherever la-la Hale Lundström fantasy land I’ve been hiding in. He deserves it and even more so, I deserve it.
    Excusing myself, I go to the ladies room, where my obsessive behavior continues. No phone calls. No texts. No emails. The mirror isn’t confessing any great secrets. I look the same. So why do I feel so damn different? I feel like I’ve lost myself. Sierra is gone. I see her, but she’s gone. And I want her back. Not this pathetic shell who is so obsessed with this douche who doesn’t give a crap about her.
    The Sierra I know would never pine over a man who disrespected her. She’d kick him in the balls and tell him to fuck himself. Not fantasize about him and keep checking her phone every two minutes like a silly teen waiting to be asked out to prom. Who is this pathetic girl? It certainly can’t be Sierra Stone.
    Rejoining Tyler, I’ve brought with me from the ladies room a brand new resolve. Live in the present. The here and now. In my head I’m hearing an old song about loving the one you’re with and wonder if I should make that my theme song.
    He’s actually the nicest date I’ve had in a long time. He embodies the quintessential Austin ethos, laid back and friendly. And I need to give him a chance. I really need to give him a chance.
    Don’t fuck this up, Sierra.

    Flying back first thing in the morning. Need to meet.
    A text from Hale. Our first contact in ten days. I’m elated. I’m angry. My heart hurts and I don’t know if it’s happiness or despair. Need to meet could mean anything. I’m trying not to read too much into it.
    Sure. When? My fingers are shaking.
    Dinner This is so Hale, no question mark after it asking me if I’m available.
    Where? Oh Sierra, you are so easy. You didn’t even make him work for it.
    I’ll pick you up at 7:30
    Pick me up where? I need him to clarify it.
    At your house, Sierra. I can hear the exasperation in his text and I’m amusing myself.
    That’s really not necessary. I’ll meet you somewhere . You haven’t contacted me in 10 days, douche, so now I’m going to fuck with you a little.
    I will pick you up at