Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 61939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“He’s finally making you an executive!” She smiled. “I told you he wouldn’t care whether you finished that degree, but um, I don’t have your lucky suit.”
“I always leave it hanging behind here.” I motioned to the pantry door. “Are you sure you didn’t accidentally move it?”
“Here it is!” Her best friend Lisa—my other roommate—rushed into the living room. “I forgot to return it when I borrowed it last week.”
“You borrowed my suit without asking me?”
“Uh, yeah, because you would’ve said no.” She handed it to me. “I wanted to impress this lawyer guy I met on Tinder, and guess what?”
I didn’t dare ask.
“I got laid!” She smiled. “You were a huge part of it, thanks.”
“Please tell me you took my suit off before having sex.”
“The pants? Yes. The jacket, no.”
I bit my tongue to stifle a groan.
You can move out once you become an executive. The moment you become an executive…
To prevent myself from giving her a lecture she wouldn’t remember, I rushed into the bathroom and shut the door.
Peeling out of my pajamas, I took the quickest shower of my life.
Then I put on my makeup and went light on the mascara. This meeting mattered too much to risk streaks.
The last time he asked me to meet him this early, it was to present me with a five-thousand-dollar bonus.
Even though I had to use most of it to pay Everly’s nursing school tuition, the memory still stands as one of the recent good things in my life.
Maybe there are more coming…
Letting out a breath, I checked for flyaways and put on one final layer of matte pink lipstick, then slid into my favorite black heels.
I grabbed my suitcase and stole one of my sister’s hangover biscuits before rushing outside and heading to the subway.
Mr. Lewis
Are you still coming in to chat, Andrea?
Yes, sir. Just running a tad bit later than expected.
You’re never “late” when it comes to me, Miss Stone :-) Take your time.
Go ahead and treat yourself to some coffee and a croissant at our Times Square store whenever you’re near.
Is that… your way of asking me to get you some, too?
Yes. LOL. Use the company card.
Looking forward to chatting with you.
Will do, sir. See you soon!
OMG, it’s really happening…
I couldn’t contain my smile as I boarded a crowded train. It didn’t falter in the slightest for the entire ride, even when the woman sitting across from me started scraping dead skin off her feet.
Welcome to New York…
The moment the train stopped at Times Square, I pushed my way through suits and tourists to step off. I rushed toward the exit, emerging into a view that still felt magical no matter how many times I saw it.
Dancing digital billboards, a sea of taxis and town cars drifting through the streets, and wide-eyed tourists taking in this city would never fail to make an impression.
Making a left, I strolled down the block until my eyes caught sight of the huge golden coffee cup that hung over our flagship store. The words Sweet Seasons were emblazoned in a sparkling emerald green, and a small mermaid etched in gray swam near its bottom.
To this day, I refused to believe Starbucks didn’t copy Mr. Lewis’s idea from top to bottom.
When I stepped through the café’s double doors, disappointment instantly hit my chest.
It was packed from window to window, and the “please bear with us” sign was flashing. Yet, the sugary scent of our signature coffee prevented me from changing my mind.
I took my place in line and scrolled through my emails, inching up a spot every few minutes.
I was halfway to the counter when loud groans snapped me out of a message.
“Move out of my way.” “Step aside.” “Move,” a deep voice said from behind.
“Hey! You can’t just skip the line!” “Where are you going?” “Sir, what the hell are you doing?”
When I looked up, the only thing in my line of sight was the broad back of a man in a dark gray suit at the counter.
All the guests were exchanging glances.
“I don’t have time to wait,” he said, loud enough for all of us to hear. “You’ll need to make my order first, and I’ll handle everyone in this store.”
“Um…” The barista blushed. “Sir, you can’t just…”
Her sentence ended right there, and her cheeks burned even redder as she picked up a cup.
“Actually, um, I’ll happily take your order.”
What the hell?
“First,” he said, “I’ll need eight flat white lattes, a dozen mochas, and eighteen breakfast blends.”
And he has the audacity to have a big-ass order?
“I’ll take a dozen honey-glazed croissants, eight strawberry clusters, and—” He paused. “Two cups of your most expensive deluxe coffee.”
“The Preston?” The barista was still in a trance. “That one is really expensive, sir.”
“I’m sure I can afford it,” he said. “The quicker you fill this order, the easier this morning will be for everyone.”