Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Fine.”
“And I’d like the contract reviewed as well.”
“Anything else?”
“Perhaps you’d like to discuss the terms of the contract over dinner?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Breakfast?”
“Get out, Mr. Bateman.”
I stood. I’d pushed pretty hard, and I didn’t want to test my limits. “You know how to reach me when you’ve had an opportunity to look over the documents?”
“Yes.” She finally looked up at me. “Apparently, now you’re available all the time.”
She was pissed. But somehow, her being pissed gave me hope. If she didn’t care, she would have eased up by now. “Thank you for your time.”
“Kelly. Show Mr. Bastardo out, please.”
Over the next three days, I stuck to my routine. Well, mostly to my routine. I arrived on Jefferson Street at my normal time, only I went inside Starbucks in the morning and read the paper while I had my morning coffee. Each day I paid for Aubrey’s coffee and added a little something to the order. Yesterday, it was a banana nut muffin. Today, I decided on chocolate chip coffee cake. I ate the same thing and drank the same coffee. It was as close to having breakfast with Aubrey as I could get right now.
Melanie, my barista, and I were becoming fast friends. She handed me my latte. “She smiles when I tell her you paid, you know.”
“She does?”
Melanie nodded. “She tries to cover it up quick. But I see it.”
She had no idea she just made my day. “Thanks, Melanie.”
She leaned over the counter as if to tell me a secret. “We’re all rooting for you.”
It was sweet. But they didn’t know what I’d done to Aubrey.
At eight o’clock, I went back into my pick up truck. I wanted to be near her but not piss her off by being completely in her face. She didn’t acknowledge me, but she knew I was there every morning.
Like clockwork, at nine thirty, Aubrey walked into Starbucks. A few minutes later she walked out. With her coffee and chocolate chip coffee cake in hand, she took two steps toward her office, then stopped, surprising the shit out of me when she headed right for my truck.
I rolled down the window.
“Could you at least make my breakfast lowfat in the future?”
I had to stop myself from saying what I really wanted to say—that I would make her whatever she wanted every morning at her place. Instead, I said, “Sure thing.”
She nodded and turned away but halted after only two strides. She didn’t turn around when she spoke. “The princess flowers bloomed this morning. They’re beautiful.” Then she was gone for another ten hours.
I went to the gym and spent a few hours at Home Depot picking up the supplies I’d need for my next project at Aubrey’s. When I originally decided to drive down to Temecula, I had taken my pick up truck rather than the motorcycle so I wouldn’t be as easily recognizable. Turned out, the truck was coming in handy.
It was a scorching hot afternoon, and I took off my t-shirt to wipe the sweat that was dripping from my forehead. I had unloaded eight trips worth of cedar into Aubrey’s backyard in the ninety-degree heat. As I closed up the rear gate to my pickup, a woman who passed by frequently stopped to speak to me.
“Hi. I’m Philomena.” She had on one of those short white tennis skirts, knee high rubber rain boots and a skin tight, low cut tank top. The sky was blue, and it hadn’t rained for days. My eyes dropped to her cleavage; you couldn’t help but notice. She had some major knockers.
“Chance.” I nodded.
She lifted her hand, which was in a cast, to gesture down the street. “I live down the block, Chance. I’ve been watching you out here for a week. I was wondering if you’d like to do me?” She was propositioning me to mow something, but it definitely wasn’t her lawn. It had been two years; looking was a given, but I had zero interest.
I caught her eye. “Thank you. But I only do Aubrey.”
“Lucky woman. You’ve really…added some curb appeal to the place.”
I looked back at the once drab bungalow. It was looking pretty good now. “Thanks. They’re princess flower bushes.”
“I wasn’t talking about the gardening.”
I tried to change the subject. “Hope you didn’t injure your hand too badly.”
“I tripped over my pig in the middle of the night. It’s just me and him. He’s the man of the house.” She winked, walking away and tossed back over her shoulder, “If you change your mind, my house is number 41. Stop by. Anytime.”
Later that night, I was recapping my day to Carla Babes when my phone vibrated on the bar. I had texted with Adele earlier and expected the text to be from her again. I was thrilled as shit to find it was from Aubrey.