Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
No problems with the job. But with you, how I feel toward you? Yeah, might have some issues there.
“I can handle it,” I said again, even though no one had questioned whether I could or couldn’t handle it. But I was getting increasingly nervous as they stared at me, wondering if they could read my thoughts.
Yeah, I’d gone there.
“I have no doubt you can handle it, Miss Morris.”
I felt my face get hot, because although his statement was probably pretty innocent, my mind was instantly in the gutter.
We stood there for a moment, the three of us not saying anything, this weirdness starting to creep in. But amidst all of that, I felt that familiar chemistry in the air, bouncing from Pope to me, from me to him.
He nodded once and his smile grew. “Well, good luck with the first day and I hope it goes smoothly.” We held eye contact a little longer than what was professionally necessary given our background together, but I didn’t think Mrs. Hartley was even aware. That or she didn’t care. Because as soon as he grabbed his coffee and turned his back and went to his office, she started right in with the tasks for the day.
And I wish I could have concentrated instead of staring at Pope through his office window and picturing myself sprawled across his desk as we did very inappropriate things.
God, I was in way over my head.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Olive
The first day of a new job is like the first day of high school. It’s awkward, exhausting, and sometimes you wish you would’ve just stayed in bed. And although seeing Pope was probably the highlight of it all, the woman who was training me had been brutal.
Stern and strict, all my errors were met with scolding, as if I were an idiot and she was losing her patience with me. Although she was crazy-dedicated to her work and how things ran, I felt like it was severely lacking, even if I’d been damn good at my job at Brookwood Financial Holdings.
And then there’d been Pope. Seeing him, watching him work, knowing he was in his element, it was like this forbidden piece of fruit I couldn’t stop lusting after. And thankfully, he’d had meetings back-to-back, understandable for a Monday morning, and lucky for me, I hadn’t worried about him scrutinizing me as well.
Besides, I didn’t want to be further embarrassed with Mrs. Hartley correcting me in front of him. I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t handle this.
So here I found myself, right after work, at a little grocery store right next to Dexter and Calvin. I had a little red basket in my hand as I made a beeline straight for the wine section. And after that? Chocolate. Because a stressful day called for some alcohol and sugar.
The grocery store wasn’t anything but about ten aisles of organic, healthy shit. Stuff I wasn’t accustomed to buying, because living in the city meant everything was expensive as hell.
But wine… wine and chocolate, I splurged the hell out of. Because if you couldn’t treat yourself during an especially shitty day, what was the point of living?
My heels clicked against the tiled floor, and the hum from the refrigerator section seemed to fill the entire interior of the store.
I stepped into the aisle and saw wine bottles surrounding both sides of me. It was like I was in the middle of paradise.
Different flavors. Different countries. Some robust, others sweet. Dry, wet, fruity, spicy. For a small store that sold goat cheese, organic milk, and gluten-free cupcakes, I was impressed and surprised by their selection.
I started walking up and down the aisle, not rushing my selection, because a good, hearty wine had to be perfect, especially when it went with chocolate.
Red or white? A nice iced wine or a flavorful sake?
I debated this in my head as I continued moving up and down the aisle, knowing it wasn’t like I could get really drunk tonight, not with having to be back bright and early with Sergeant Severe in the morning. But a nice little buzz before I went to bed would probably keep the nightmares of data entry away.
I reached up and grabbed a bottle of pinot grigio and brought it down, reading over the label, admiring the artwork on the bottle. That was another selling point for me when I selected my wine. How pretty was the bottle?
Typically, I wasn’t particular about what alcohol I consumed. Reds and whites all tasted about the same to me, but a pretty bottle… that always made me feel better.
“May I suggest, if you’re going to get a bottle of wine, to reach higher on the shelf?”
I curled my fingers tightly around the neck of the bottle as his voice slammed through me. I looked up and over to see Pope standing a few feet from me, an identical red basket in his hand. I couldn’t help but notice the contents.