Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“I don’t know,” she murmurs, her tone thoughtful. “Think he’ll ever grow a pair and tell her? Aren’t they both graduating this spring?”
“Yup.” I grin, shaking my head. “I told him the other day when he was whining about the date she went on that he better shit or get off the pot.”
Holland lets out a laugh, her eyes twinkling as she looks up at me. “Charmingly put, as always. Kind of like you, huh? Finally deciding to take matters into your own hands?”
I slide an arm around her waist and pull her closer. “Hey, I’d say my master plan worked out pretty well in the end, wouldn’t you?” My lips graze hers. “After all, I finally got the girl I’ve always wanted.”
Her cheeks flush, and that teasing smile I love so much curves her lips. “Master plan, huh? And here I thought it was all spontaneous charm.”
“Let me have my moment,” I reply with a mock-serious expression, earning another laugh from her. My voice drops as I press my forehead to hers. “Now, what do you say we get out of here? After that hard win tonight, I was hoping you’d consider giving me a private dance.”
Holland’s eyes glint with mischief, her fingers trailing over my pecs. “I think that can be arranged,” she whispers, her breath ghosting over my lips.
With a grin, I take her hand and lead her toward the exit until the noise of the bar fades behind us. Tonight, there’s only one thing on my mind, and she’s right here, her hand warm in mine.
Western University Chat App
ColdAsIce17
Unpredictable? Understatement of the year.
FragileLikeABomb
Aw, you say the sweetest things.
ColdAsIce17
Just speaking facts. I never know if you’re going to roast me or start a deep philosophical debate.
FragileLikeABomb
Why not both? I like to keep you on your toes.
ColdAsIce17
Clearly.
FragileLikeABomb
Admit it, you’d miss me if I stopped.
ColdAsIce17
…
FragileLikeABomb
That’s what I thought.
Epilogue
Bridger
A year later…
* * *
“I’m telling you, the idea is solid,” I say, leaning back in my chair and tossing my pen onto the table with a flourish. “You’re just salty because you didn’t think of it first.”
Holland’s eyes narrow, and the corner of her mouth twitches in a way that tells me she’s seconds away from letting loose a sarcastic retort. “Oh, please. Your groundbreaking plan involves, what, appealing to nostalgia with cheesy ’90s references? Bold move, Sanderson. Really cutting-edge.”
“Hey,” I shoot back, folding my arms across my chest and leveling her with a look. “The ’90s were iconic. If you knew anything about marketing—which, clearly, you don’t—you’d know nostalgia sells. Admit it, you’re scared I might be onto something.”
With a snort, she rolls her eyes. “Scared? Of your Nickelodeon-themed campaign? That’s rich. What’s next, Sanderson? Are we going to pitch a Rugrats revival while we’re at it?”
Before I can fire back, the door to the conference room swings open, and Uncle Joe strides in. His tie is slightly loosened, and he’s cradling his usual oversized coffee mug with World’s Okayest Boss emblazoned across it.
His gaze bounces between the two of us as a bemused expression tugs at his face. “Let me guess,” he says, leaning casually against the edge of the table, “the great Sanderson-Tate marketing rivalry rages on?”
Holland leans back in her chair, crossing her legs and flashing a smug grin. “Don’t worry. I’m winning, as usual.”
“That’s debatable,” I mutter under my breath, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs for my trouble.
Joe chuckles, shaking his head as he takes a sip of coffee. “You two are something else, you know that? I’ll say this, though, you’ve both been incredible assets to the company. But let me give you a word of advice.”
Holland and I both sit up straighter, waiting for one of his infamous pearls of wisdom.
“Don’t let whatever this is,” he says, gesturing between us with his mug, “bleed into your personal lives. Trust me, my first two wives would tell you I did that a little too much.”
Holland raises an eyebrow, and I can see the teasing retort forming on her lips, but before she can say anything, I jump in. “Don’t worry, Uncle Joe,” I say smoothly, draping an arm across the back of Holland’s chair, “we never bring business home with us.”
My fiancée nods in agreement, her tone as sweet as honey. “Absolutely. We know better than that.”
Joe smirks, clearly unconvinced. “Then you’re both smarter than I was at your age,” he says, pushing off the table with a final nod. “Carry on. And try not to kill each other in here. You’re scaring the interns.”
The door clicks shut behind my uncle, leaving us alone again. A teasing smile quirks Holland’s lips as she rises to her feet and gathers up her scattered notes.
I stand and loosen my tie from around my neck before tossing it onto the table. “You know,” I start, stepping toward her, “he might actually be onto something. This rivalry of ours could get dangerous.”