Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Drink some water,” I told her.
She turned around on her heels and flipped me off. “Bite me, Gabriel.”
I’d rather not. Biting her was exactly what led us to this uncomfortable exchange.
“See you in the morning at the office,” I said.
“I’m going to be late,” she promised.
I had no doubt she’d keep that promise, too.
After driving off from her place, I headed back home with my mind spinning with images of Kierra. I didn’t know why I still hadn’t been able to kick the idea of her from my mind. I could still see her smile lines and full, plump lips at the forefront of my thoughts.
As I walked into my house, I was greeted by my German shepherd, Bentley, who always welcomed me home with the utmost excitement. Then he followed me around like a shadow. I headed straight for my office and pulled out my sketchbook, then sat down with only the dim glow of my desk lamp lighting the paper in front of me. Bentley lay right at my feet.
Whenever my mind was too busy with images, I’d sketch them out. I’d been doing it for as long as I could remember. Sketching was an outlet for me. Most of the framed drawings in my home were made from snapshots of moments in my mind.
Therefore, instead of sleeping, I sketched Kierra Hughes from memory.
Her long, toned legs.
Her high cheekbones.
Her slicked-black ponytail.
I drew her laughing because that was how she seemed to live within my mind. She radiated a kind of beauty that I’d thought only existed within my dreams. She seemed so damn nice, too. Sincere. As if she truly wanted to make sure everyone was enjoying their time. Henry seemed to be the opposite of his wife. Where he’d loved to show off his own talents, Kierra preferred to hear about others.
I stayed up way too late drawing Kierra Hughes in my book of sketches. When I headed to bed, it was almost three in the morning. That wasn’t shocking, though. I didn’t sleep much. I was equal parts a night owl and a morning person. Which meant more than half the time I was running on coffee and prayers.
As I lay in bed, all I could think about was that I couldn’t wait until Monday. For better or worse, I’d be at Florence Bakery, waiting for a cinnamon muffin and Kierra Hughes.
***
The following Monday, I waited at the bakery. Kierra never arrived. I did my best to keep busy. Ramona was still giving me the cold shoulder, but I didn’t mind. If she got her work done, I couldn’t care less about how cold her shoulder was. At least that would’ve been true if Ramona wasn’t half human, half pain in my ass.
“I made you an afternoon tea,” Ramona mentioned, walking into my office. As she set it down, she spilled it over my desk, making me leap up from my chair. I hurriedly gathered the paperwork in front of me, trying to save all I could from the spill.
“Shit, Ramona!” I yipped, snatching up my phone, which was now dripping in tea. “What are you doing? I don’t even drink tea.”
“Oh? You don’t?” she sarcastically asked. “I guess it turns out that I don’t know who you are at all, Mr. Sinclair.”
I groaned.
Well, well, well, will you look at that.
The consequences of my own actions.
“Ramona,” I started.
“Yes, Mr. Sinclair?”
“Why are you calling me Mr. Sinclair?”
“Because I figured calling you ‘dick’ would inappropriate. Almost as inappropriate as you tongue fucking me one weekend and ghosting me the next.”
I blinked at her a few times before nodding. “All right. Mr. Sinclair it is.”
“Oh, fuck off, Gabriel.” She huffed as she turned on her heels and stomped out of my office.
I stared down at the mess on my desk and couldn’t help but blame myself. I was somewhat shocked that Ramona didn’t go with her normal “I was so wasted I can’t remember anything from the night before” routine, but then again if she had gone that route, she wouldn’t have been able to gloat to all the other employees about attending one of Henry Hughes’s parties. It was like she’d tossed a coin on which one mattered more in the moment, and the party of a century was where she’d landed. Which meant I’d receive spilled tea and Ramona’s attitude.
After heading to the kitchen, I grabbed some paper towels and went back to my office to clean up the results of that woman’s scorn.
“Maybe you’ll learn to listen to your mother when she tells you not to mix work with pleasure,” I heard as I wiped up the last of the spill. I looked up to find my mother standing there with a wicked I-told-you-so smirk on her face. Despite her petite figure, she still made me feel like a damn kid when she looked at me like that.