Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I was going to have to find a good time to get into his office. Then snoop. All the while praying he didn’t have cameras in there.
And I was going to have to be open to more private events. As much as my voice (and, you know, soul) hated that idea.
I’d just finished with my mascara when the door opened.
Then there was Frank.
His gaze flicked up to my head. He hated the look of curlers in my hair. It probably reminded him of his mother or something. But it was funny to watch the way his nose crinkled up as soon as he saw them.
“There was a gift out front for you,” he said, producing a small white box.
“Oh, thanks,” I said. I made sure my fingers didn’t brush his as I took it from his hand.
As expected, Frank didn’t leave me in private to open my gift.
He was far too jealous for that.
And I think it irked him that I refused his early attempts to give me gifts but accepted ones left by guests.
It was surprisingly heavy for what appeared to be a jewelry box, but when I opened it up, there was a beautiful necklace with a hefty diamond. One that my trained eye (thanks, Grandma) immediately clocked as real.
“Is that a diamond?” Frank balked.
“Seems like it,” I said, lifting it from the box.
“Let me see that.” He charged forward, snatched it from me, and brought it close to the mirror. Then, in the corner, ran it across the glass.
Sure enough, there was a scratch.
It was real.
And, depending on the clarity, that thing could be up to ten grand.
While he was somewhat distracted by that, I carefully slid the box further away from him. Because it was still heavy. There was something in it. And it was hidden under a false bottom.
If it was from Milo, I needed to make sure Frank didn’t see it.
“Who would send you this?” he asked, waving it in my face like an accusation.
“I was just going to see,” I said, reaching for the little off-white envelope sitting inside.
I slid out the notecard inside.
“Well?” Frank asked. His face was getting ruddy. His jaw twitched.
“‘Loved your performance. Hope to catch it again.’ It’s signed… Eric,” I told him. I didn’t have to fake the pinch of my brows when I looked up at him. “Do you know an Eric?” I asked.
“You don’t know him? You didn’t fuck him?”
Okay.
The gasp that escaped me was a little exaggerated. So was the way my hand went to my chest.
But, well, sometimes men were a little dense. You really had to put on a show to get a point across.
“Are you… are you accusing me of what I think you are?” I let hurt and shock slip into my voice.
Frank’s gaze slid to me, taking me in for a second, then deflating like a balloon.
“No! No. No, of course not. I know you’re a good girl.”
Oh.
Blech.
I wasn’t sure there was anything more disgusting than being called a ‘good girl’ by a creepy older man.
“I don’t even know an Eric,” I insisted. “I mean, I meet so many people. But I don’t think I even had a conversation with an Eric.”
“I know Eric,” Frank said, jaw going granite. “And I’ll be talking to him about this.”
He waved the necklace and looked ready to pocket it.
“I can’t keep it?” I asked, making my eyes go round and my lips pout.
I hated fawning.
But it worked like a charm on my boss.
“You girls and your shiny things.”
It took actual work to keep myself from grimacing at him. Just when I thought he couldn’t dig to deeper levels of misogyny, he brought out a shovel.
“I suppose you can keep it. It’s Eric’s loss. But I shouldn’t have to tell you that accepting gifts from men can set a bad precedent. They might start… expecting things in return.”
No shit.
That’s why I’d never taken one from you.
“Just this once?” I asked, my voice going softer as my eyes went rounder.
“Oh, how can I deny you anything?”
How could he, indeed? When it wasn’t even his damn place?
“Here,” he said, handing it back to me, his cold fingers lingering on mine for just a second too long. “Can I have the card, though?”
“Sure,” I agreed, quickly handing it to him.
He needed to leave.
I had to figure out what else was in the box.
Then, you know, finish getting ready for my show.
“That’s my girl,” Frank said. “Don’t forget the red lip. You know how much I like that.”
Unfortunately, I did.
I’d once overheard him say he had some kind of kink for getting head from women with red lipstick on because the stain lingered.
Weirdo.
“Always,” I agreed, giving him a smile that I kept plastered on my face until he was out of the room.
“Ugh,” I grumbled, shaking my shoulders like I could shrug off the whole interaction.