Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Number one,” I start. “It was July first, and that is the trade deadline. Second, I haven’t had a day off in forever.”
“Two weeks ago in New York,” she counters, and I get a bit aggravated now.
“Is that what was so urgent that I had to call you?” I ask. “Seventeen missed calls for that?”
“Actually, ass,” she says, “I called to go over the pitch I was going to give today, but since you were MIA, I called Lizzie.”
“Oh, good, is this for the company we spoke about?” I ignore her last comment.
“It is,” she tells me. “I’m super nervous about it.”
“You’ll do great,” I say, and she breathes out a huge breath.
“I hope so. I know they are a family run company,” she says.
“You’ll kill it,” I say. “You always do. Call me and let me know how it goes.”
“Will do,” she says and hangs up the phone, my mind forgetting about the conversation five seconds after another call comes in.
I’m in and out of meetings all day long, and when I finally look at the clock, I see it’s past seven. “I’m headed home,” Lizzie says, peeking her head into the office. “Do you want me to get you something to eat on the way home?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m good.” She nods and leaves and I pick up my phone calling Becca.
“Hello,” she says, her voice almost breathless.
“What are you doing?” I ask into the phone.
“I’m on the treadmill,” she says, and I laugh. “Got home at five and figured why not.”
“You didn’t call me today.” I get up and walk out of my office.
“Was I supposed to?” she asks. “I’m almost done. How about I call you back?”
She hangs up the phone, and twenty-five minutes later, she hasn’t called me back. I get out of my SUV, walking into her building, and the doorman asks who I’m here for.
He has me sign in, and when I knock on the door, there is no answer. I knock again and nothing. I take my phone out and call her. “Hey, sorry,” she says. “I took a shower.”
“I’m outside your door,” I say, and I hear her walking, and the door swings open, and there she stands in a robe and her hair tied at the top of her head. “I brought you dinner.” She looks at me in shock as she smiles. She moves back to give me a chance to walk into the place. I lean down and kiss her lips.
“Are we talking real food here,” she asks, shutting the door, “or are we talking dick?”
I laugh at her, holding up the bag in my hand. “I mean real food,” I say, “but I’m okay with the blow job part.” She throws her head back and laughs.
“You would be.” She comes to me and wraps her arms around my neck. Going on her tippy toes, she says, “By the way, in case I forget to tell you later. I’m really happy you stopped by.”
Chapter 21
Becca
“Well, in case I don’t tell you later,” he says softly as I look up at him. “I’m really happy I came here.” He kisses me so softly, if my eyes weren’t open, I would’ve thought it didn’t happen.
“Let’s go eat.” I turn and lead him down the hall into the kitchen. “You bought it, so let me plate it,” I say. “Take off your jacket.” I watch him as he takes off the jacket I observed him putting on this morning.
I tried to sneak out this morning when I got up, but the minute he felt the bed move, he woke up. I didn’t want the whole scene of me leaving and having it awkward, so I tried to sneak out. I can’t even explain it. I spent the whole weekend with him naked in his apartment. Getting dressed or actually covered for thirty minutes. We were naked and making out every single time. I felt as if we were trying to get our fill before talking about what this thing really was. Or asking if we are going to actually put a label on it.
“How was your day, dear?” I grab two plates, bringing them back to the brown bag that he brought in.
“Uneventful,” he says, taking off his cuff links and rolling up his sleeves. “What about you?”
“It was a Monday.” I take out the first black container. “What did you order?”
“Steak and salmon,” he says as I take out another container. “I got two of each.”
“There is enough food for six people,” I say, and he just shrugs. I open the containers, and the smell makes my mouth water. “Beef or fish?” I look up at him.
“Steak,” he says and I put steak on a plate with some roasted Brussel sprouts and a loaded baked potato. I walk over to him. “Here you go.” I place the plate in front of him.