Read Online Shatterproof by Yvonne Collins, Sandy Rideout - Free Book Online Page A

wanted to stop for ice cream and I resisted. I’d budgeted exactly 45 minutes for the walk. Stopping would have set me back 20 minutes, and I needed that 20 minutes for a romantic interlude with Noah before getting back to work. Not because I was feeling particularly amorous, but because I felt guilty that I hadn’t been investing much energy into our relationship. One thing led to another, and when Noah realized I’d slotted him into a 20 minute “appointment,” he flipped. He accused me of being profoundly uptight and I accused him of being profoundly insensitive.
    I felt like he didn’t recognize the effort I was making to balance a very demanding job and our relationship. Later, I tried harder than ever to spend what little time we had together on activities he valued, but it seemed like it was never enough. He didn’t complain much, but for someone with my personality, getting a failing grade in anything is hugely stressful. Still, I never stopped loving Noah, or hoping our relationship would take off again. Only today has it hit me that we may be permanently grounded.
    I dial the number for Jiffi Auto Glass by memory, and Vera picks up instantly. “Hi hon. I guess it’s not going so good over there.”
    “How’d you know?”
    “Jimmy’s having a helluva time with your windshield. It looked good for a couple of hours. Then a new crack showed up—a deep one.”
    I start to cry. “My boyfriend. My fiancé. He just broke up with me. The photo I mentioned? He saw it before it was pulled back.”
    “You doused him with Wonder Glass?”
    I wipe the tears away with the sleeve of the coat I’m still wearing. “He wouldn’t drink it. And now he’s gone.”
    “Oh, Ellie, I’m sorry,” she says. “We really needed to get on this one early.”
    “I know. I messed up.”  I’m sobbing openly now. “Is there any hope? He’s the love of my life.”
    “The formula’s good for 12 hours, 13 at most. If this guy really is the love of your life, you’d better follow him and force the stuff down his throat if you have to.”
    I stand up and unlock the restroom stall. “Okay, I’ll go after him.”
    “Don’t get sidetracked,” she says. “And whatever you do, don’t use the serum where you don’t need it.”
    “Can’t you make more?”
    “One batch per problem, hon. Make this one count.”

 
     
     
    S herri flags me as I creep out of my office with my purse.
    “Reuben’s looking for you,” she whispers.
    I mouth “thanks,” and hurry toward the exit.
    Not fast enough.
    “Hudson. In my office. Stat.”
    Freezing in my tracks, I say, “Gotta run, Reuben. Talk tomorrow?”
    “Oh, right, it’s Valentine’s Day, and someone else is calling the shots now.”
    I turn and walk back, stopping right in front of him. I don’t say anything but there must be a wild glint in my eye, because Reuben takes a step backwards. Then I walk around him and into his office.
    “We can talk tomorrow, Hudson,” Reuben says. “You’re right.”
    I drop my purse on the floor and collapse into his guest chair with a thud. “No, let’s talk now.”  This conversation isn’t going to end well and I’d rather get it over with, even if it costs me a few minutes.
    Reuben hesitates in the doorway, but I stare straight ahead at his chair, until he circles the desk and lowers himself into it, watching me warily.
    “What’s on your mind?” I ask, my voice eerily calm.
    Regaining his composure, Reuben gestures to his laptop. “The photo. Of you and that kid.”
    Somehow Reuben managed to get through the day without a sip of water or a treat from Starbucks. Normally, he’s as bad as the juniors when it comes to free snacks.
    “The kid was drunk and he kissed me,” I say. “That’s it. You know crazy things happen at launch parties sometimes.”
    Reuben’s had at two affairs that I know of with young consultants. The most recent started at a launch party for the Australia project. He actually took that