Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Ar a laghad tá tú luaite liom,” Tate viciously bites an all too familiar and annoying Irish phrase.
“Yes, I fucking mentioned you,” I murmur under my breath in no mood for his attitude prior to tossing a phony grin the direction of Rue. “And yes, this is the boyfriend I previously mentioned, Tate O’Clery.” My hand gestures between him and the table. “Tate these are some of my friends from work.” One by one I introduce them and their title, ending with Daniel on a lighthearted, “And of course you know the man who steals coffee from my office.”
“It’s complimentary,” my ex-husband teases in the same nature he always does.
Mirth isn’t found in Tate’s tone whatsoever. “Bueno, el precio por tratando de acostarte con mi novia es más de lo que tu puedes pagar.”
The translation for that Spanish statement is not only aggressive, it’s off putting.
Daniel isn’t trying to sleep with me!
And saying it’s more than he could pay makes me sound like a fucking hooker!
And lastly, that isn’t a fight we should have in front of these people of all people!
Thank God none of them are fluent in Spanish.
“Those were two totally different languages,” Crue chimes in, curiosity caked in his voice. “The first I’m not sure what-”
“Scottish?” Guesses Cait.
“Irish,” Abel corrects for his coworker.
“And the second was some sort of Spanish or Spanglish,” Crue continues, leaning back in his seat. “How many languages do you speak young man?”
“Fluently, three. Not fluently four, sir.”
“You can speak seven languages?” Craig screeches from behind his cocktail glass. “Do you have any idea how impressive that is on a resume?”
Tate doesn’t answer.
It’s probably for the best.
“You should totally be working somewhere better than this,” Rue adds in what I imagine is supposed to be an inspiring versus condescending tone.
Irritation flares in his green gaze pushing me to remove him from the situation before things can spiral completely out of control for the both of us. I lovingly place a hand on his lower stomach to pull his stare down to me. “Do you have time for a five-minute break?”
Whether it’s because Abel can see his friend’s cut jaw ticking like a time bomb or because he can feel the tension that has rose once more at the table, doesn’t matter nearly as much as his forceful insistence. “Take it, man. I’ll watch your tables for a few.”
Tate nods in appreciation while I begin to rise to my feet, putting the napkin down on the table.
“Should we order you a drink?” Crue politely inquires. “Maybe one of these pear martinis like Daniel and I have?”
“She hates pears,” my boyfriend states, tone seething.
“That must be new,” Daniel off handedly retorts
Tate’s scoff is venomous. “It’s not.”
My ex brushing past the comment without a response thankfully occurs, “Want me to order you an app?”
“I’d appreciate that. I’m starving.”
He makes a second attempt to lighten the mood. “It’s a good thing I know all the things you like.”
“Not anymore,” Tate snidely remarks causing Daniel’s eyebrows to launch to the ceiling.
“Yeah, you need a timeout,” I mumble under my breath while physically ushering him away from the table. “Like a big one.”
“I’m not a fucking child,” he mutters back in exasperation.
“Then act like a fucking adult and have this conversation with me in private rather than in the middle of your workplace like we’re filming some shitty Michigan version of Temptation Island.”
“Eres la que no puedes dejar el come mierda ex marido de ella solo.”
Having him call Daniel terrible in Spanish is one thing but implying that I’m still hung up on him tonight of all fucking nights is the wrong goddamn move.
We eventually make our way into the employees only hallway which is where my internal outrage is finally allowed to become outward. “What the fuck is your problem tonight?”
“You!” He barks without hesitation. “You’re the one who came into my place of business with your bloody ex-husband on your arm like you’re still fucking married to the bloke!”
“Excuse me?”
“He had no business touching you like he did!”
“He helped me with my fucking coat!”
“You don’t know how to take off your own coat now like the adult woman you feel the need to repeatedly remind me that you are every bloody chance you get?”
Anger churns my stomach adding to the lingering nausea that’s already there.
“I have made my feelings about Daniel in your life crystal clear, Harper.” The pointed finger my direction receives a sneering stare. “The least you could bloody do is not parade Dr. Fucking Perfect around here without giving me a warning! The least you could bloody do is give me a chance to save face in front of my fucking coworkers! In front of yours! I know I may not be as incredible as all the surgeons and the lawyers and bloody interior decorators you’re so busy dining around the city with, but I still deserve a chance to have some dignity. Coño! Where’s your goddamn respect for me?!”