Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 161434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Exactly why I would have avoided you, I write back.
He gives me a one-word response.
Liar.
Awesome. There’s my regularly scheduled dose of maddening frustration with this man.
How do you know? I write, sliding it over.
You’re here now, aren’t you? And you haven’t stood up and walked away, he writes.
Damn him. Guilty as charged.
But I’m not giving up so easily. I pick up my pen.
Your grandma pays me to deal with you, boss.
His reply comes back in seconds.
True, technically. But today you came for me. Not for Grandma.
Also true. Thankfully, the torture ends as the whole room breaks out in quiet applause. We stand up and follow the line snaking toward the break area stocked with fancy snacks and a wine and coffee bar in the middle.
“I’m going to the bar. Do you want to tag along and meet more people who enjoy watching paint dry?” Nick asks, eyeing me innocently like the weird exchange on paper never happened.
“I’d love some coffee. The rest...no, thanks,” I tell him.
“It’s called networking, Miss Halle. It’s good for long-term career prospects.”
“I’m just the driver.” I shrug. “I guess some of these people may hire their own drivers. Your grandmother did, but it’s hard to imagine better pay.”
He eyeballs me slowly, and whether he knows it or not, I’m feeling too vulnerable. “Can I see the notes you’ve been working on?”
“You mean the real ones or the notes for the class clown who wouldn’t leave me alone?”
His eyes flash as that devil-smirk reappears. “Real.”
Oh, he’ll regret asking me to come, but I hand him the notebook where I tried to record Boring Bowling’s speech.
“I did the best I could, but I feel like I’m missing a lot of background info.”
He reads the first page, flips through a few more, and nods. “Very thorough. Keep that up and we could promote you to EA. It pays a lot more and I’m sure you could hack it.”
“Nope. I like driving just fine, boss.”
“Really? Even with a significant raise?” He waits like he’s expecting me to do an about-face and beg for the job.
Screw him.
I stand my ground. “I like money as much as the next person, Mr. Brandt, but this work...it’s not what I’m cut out for. I’m not much good at it.”
“You’re not bad at it, either, and you’ve shown you can handle my brother and me. If you ever change your mind, let me know. I’m getting a drink now. Should I grab a glass of champagne for you or do you still need that coffee?”
“Coffee.” I shake my head. “I have to drive.”
“Did you ever try my champagne?”
“I put it in the stray cat’s water bowl in the back of my apartment. She didn’t claw my door all night.” For a second, he blinks at me, and I hold my hands up. “Joking! God, what do you think I am?”
“You’re diabolical,” he says with a snort.
“I’m also kidding. Again.”
He starts to walk away, shaking his head. I’m about to step outside for a minute or two of fresh air when some blond chick cuts him off before he can get out of the ballroom. She touches his arm and leans into his space.
Nick tries to put some distance between them, but she’s not having it.
How odd. She’s not hideous.
In fact, most guys would probably line up for blocks to hit it with her sultry looks, full lips, that swish of shimmering gold-spun hair, and hips that look like they were designed to beckon men to their doom.
I normally don’t stare at another woman like this with my blood running hot and my vision turning red.
I definitely don’t normally get jealous.
Yikes.
But I’m also bewildered. I’ve never seen Nick coldly reject low-hanging fruit like that. Of course, most men don’t like being pursued. They want to do the chasing.
I grab my phone and Snap the shot to Abby. I don’t think he’s used to the tables being turned like this.
Abby: Damn! Run her off. If you don’t want him, I do. Who’s blondie? I already hate her.
Reese: ROFL. You don’t even know her!
Abby: Why are you letting him go? He likes you enough to shove presents in your face.
Reese: BOSSMAN! Should I send it ten more times until it sinks in?
Abby: Whatever, sissy sis. Bosses who whip out expensive gifts totally grow on trees...just like money.
Reese: I didn’t know that. Thanks for enlightening me.
Gah. I’ve been so tied up in my own affairs, I haven’t thought about her. I hope she’s not hurting financially, getting in over her head again. Abby gets caught up in trouble sometimes when she’s desperate.
Abby: Reese. Run her off.
For the tiniest split second, I consider taking my sister’s crazy advice.
4
The Real Me (Nick)
The conference takes the whole damn day, and Reese—Miss Halle—sits beside me, patiently recording everything the speakers say.
A few hours later, it finally ends and people spill into the halls to hit the cash bar one last time.