Connectivity Read Online Free PDF

notification. I have it parked next to my keyboard, so I pick it up.
    And to my surprise, I see it is a response to my blog.
    Oh my God! A real reply to my blog! My first real response!
    I excitedly open the message on my phone.
    William Cumberland is now following your blog.
    I gasp out loud. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!!!!!!! My heart begins to pound. My stomach completely bottoms out.
    Beep!
    William Cumberland has commented on one of your posts.
    Panic engulfs me. I access my blog from my iPhone. Oh mother of God, he is reading my posts. In which I talk about him!
    Oh shit. He has written a comment on the scone one, in which I oh-so-brilliantly commented that he was too thin and needed to eat more scones.
    I read his comment in horror.
    I prefer the word “lithe” instead of “too thin” myself. WC
    Beep! My phone goes off again.
    William Cumberland has commented on one of your posts.
    I put my forehead into my hands and groan. Apparently Cumberland is going to read every single thing I have ever written.
    Beep!
    And comment on it as well.
    Beep!
    I shut off my phone. This is nothing short of a disaster. And I have no clue how I am going to face him after this.

Chapter 5
    I sit at my desk for a good hour fighting the urge to throw up before I finally decide to take the bull by the horns and step into his doorway. Cumberland is on his cell phone, walking around his office. He is in front of the large window, which has a fantastic view of the Magnificent Mile, sprawled out below in all its glory.
    Cumberland sees me and holds out his hand, signaling for me to wait. I watch him as he stops in front of the window. The snow is cascading down from the gray sky, and I can’t help but observe how his crisp white shirt stands out against the backdrop.
    I notice a lock of his dark wavy hair has fallen out of place and is resting against his forehead, and as I combine the image with the brilliant and in control way he is speaking right now, there is something very magnetic about him. You are drawn in, and you just can’t help but stare at him.
    Cumberland finishes the call, and as soon as he does, I clear my throat.
    “Mr. Cumberland, I want to thank you for following my blog,” I say simply. Then I see it. A slight expression of surprise flickers across his face. Ah-ha! Cumberland didn’t expect this and that is good! My confidence grows and I smile at him. “And you are absolutely correct that lithe is a better way to describe you.”
    Cumberland folds his arms across his sleek white shirt. That is all he wears—modern-cut designer shirts. I am pretty sure they are Prada, too. And I have to admit, they suit him very well.
    “You have a talent for writing, Ms. Grant,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.
    I feel my face burn hot. No, don’t blush! I will myself. Don’t!
    “Thank you,” I say quietly.
    “Why am I the only follower?” he asks, his laser blue eyes riveted to mine.
    I swallow hard. And then I give him the honest truth. “I don’t want pity follows.”
    Cumberland’s brow creases. “Pity follows?”
    I nod. “Yes. Like my family and friends ‘following’ me because I ask them to, not because they really want to. Does that make sense?”
    “Very similar to people telling me ‘yes’, no matter what the question is, because my name is William Cumberland,” he says slowly.
    I suddenly realize that we might be more alike than I ever could have imagined. We are both career-oriented, and we are both prideful. It was an interesting thought. 
    We simply stare at each other for a moment, surprised by this revelation. Then Cumberland gets the intense look in his eyes that I have come to recognize on sight.
    “With that said, Ms. Grant, why on earth are you an executive assistant? Your considerable skills and a Master’s degree from Northwestern are not well-matched with your current position.”
    My pulse leaps. Cumberland sees me. Unlike Paul, my old boss, Cumberland has known me for about a