Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 30858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Only three times already. “Hold that thought,” I said. “I need to make a quick phone call.”
“Okay, future hubby.” She winked, and I stood up, heading into an empty dining space.
Without thinking, I scrolled down to Jenna’s name and called.
“Hello?” she answered on the first ring.
“Hello, Jenna.”
“Mr. Saint,” she said. “I could’ve sworn you had a date at Per Se with Laura tonight.”
“I do. I’m here now.”
“Then hang up. It’s rude to talk at the table.”
“It’s even ruder to talk about yourself nonstop.” I groaned. “I walked away to get a break from her.”
“Well, I’m currently taking a break from you, so…”
“If you hang up on me, we’re going to have another problem between each other,” I said. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to decorate my living room.”
“Why are you starting so late this year?” I asked, remembering how bare it was the other day.
“It’s not by choice,” she said. “My boss hasn’t really given me much free time this year.”
“He’d give you a lot more if you stopped feeding him your sarcasm every few minutes.”
“He deserves every second of it.”
“Would you like him to come over and help you trim your tree?” I paused. “He can also trim your lower lips with his mouth, if you want him to.”
“WHAT?”
“You heard me.”
“I…” She sucked in a slow, unsteady breath that I yearned to hear under me.
“Just say yes, Jenna…”
“I, um, need to ask you something.”
“So, we’re just going to change the subject?”
“If I say no—” She paused. “Are you going to ask your wife to go back home with you instead?”
“No.” I was confused. “Why would I do that?”
“You clearly need to get laid.”
With you… “You honestly think I’m tempted to sleep with my wife?”
Her silence told me all I needed to know.
“I’m never having sex with Laura, if that’s what you’re asking,” I said. “I literally just asked you if I could come over to eat your pussy and you’re playing games like you didn’t hear me.”
“Because I want to keep things professional.”
“Fine then, Miss Dawson.” I wouldn’t make my longing that obvious ever again. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
“See you at work tomorrow.”
She ended the call, and I called Marshall to kill as much time as possible before forcing myself to return to Laura.
6B
JENNA
The Following Evening
“Remember to never eat onions around him.” I tossed rings from Laura’s salad into the trash. “They make his throat itch.”
“Noted.”
“You also need to get rid of that Jets keychain. You know he’s a Giants fan.”
“Actually, I don’t know that.” She flipped through the crash binder I’d made. “I must’ve missed that fact somehow.”
“It’s on the first page.”
“I thought that was just another list of rules.” She shrugged. “I guess I’ll need to commit all those things to mind tonight.”
“Why would you—” I paused, letting out a breath.
This was all last-minute.
And none of it was her fault.
“Okay, Laura, look,” I said. “If there’s ever a moment when you can’t remember something, just smile, ask a question, and then repeat the last thing they said—people love hearing themselves echoed back.”
“Does that honestly work?”
“All the time,” I said. “And whenever you get frustrated, remember this is all temporary, and you’re being paid quite well for your time.”
“Will do.”
“Now, let’s, um, discuss the first meetup and proposal stories a few more times.”
“Wait a second,” she said, tilting her head. “Since you know Mr. Saint pretty well already, why can’t you pretend to be his wife?”
“Ha. That would never work,” I said too quickly, shrugging. “Plus, he’s not my type and vice versa.”
“I don’t think he has to be if you’re pretending…”
“Anyway—” I refused to entertain that line of conversation. “Let’s stick to the stories. Tell me about the day you first met Nicholas.”
“Gladly.” She smiled and launched into the story without missing a beat.
Well, almost.
I only had to correct her saying he ordered “onion rings, while I ordered garlic parmesan bites” because he definitely would’ve choked if that were real, but she sailed smoothly through the other prepackaged stories.
The only things we needed to smooth out were making the off-the-cuff answers more natural.
As I was reminding her that Nicholas would never—and I do mean never—be caught dead playing any family board games, he texted me.
Nicholas
How is she doing?
Very well so far.
Good to know. How are you doing?
Like you care…
I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.
I’m fine.
Good… I was looking over my conversation script just now, and you did a decent job.
I did an *amazing* job.
From what I’m reading, it’s almost like you know me as well as I know you.
We’re getting closer to Christmas, not April Fool’s…
Funny. Pick up when I call you later.
By the time I was finished walking Laura through some subtle body language notes, Nicholas was calling my phone.
I stared at his name as it crossed my screen, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer.