Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“I’ll cancel my plans,” Avril says, as she tips her chin up in challenge.
I chuckle. “I won’t.”
“Okay, so what are you suggesting?” she asks.
“I’m saying that if you spend seven days with me and nothing happens between us, then I’ll help you with your Boston project.”
“Sign me up,” she says, her eyes dancing with excitement. “You want a contract?”
I laugh and take a swig of my beer.
“I’m serious. Should we write this down? I don’t want you walking any of this back.”
“We don’t need a contract,” I say. “It’s simple.” But is it simple? I’m saying seven days, but what does that mean? “Twenty-four hours times seven is what?”
“One hundred and sixty-eight,” Poppy says. “Are you saying the two of you have to be on dates for a hundred and sixty-eight hours? That’s going to take a while.”
“I knew there’d be a catch,” Avril says.
“You’re right,” I say. “That’s too long.”
“Seven dates,” Avril says. “Seven lunches or dinners over seven days.”
“I’ve told you, my calendar doesn’t allow for that.” But I like the idea of enforced dating. I’m not sure I’d get to see Avril otherwise. Her spikes would stay sharp and keep me at bay.
“And a lunch can be sixty to ninety minutes, which isn’t long. And anyway, lunch has a different vibe to dinner,” Poppy interjects.
I agree, Poppy. Lunch doesn’t give me enough time with Avril. I want her evenings and her nights.
Who am I?
What has one night with Avril done to me?
Avril shifts her weight and sticks out her hip. It takes everything in me not to grab her and pull her to me. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side?” she says to Poppy.
“I’m trying to broker this deal,” Poppy says. “In order to get Ben to help, you both have got to feel like you got a good deal.”
Poppy’s smart. Both sides always have to feel like they win. That’s always my aim when I’m trying to put deals together. And I’m starting to let myself wonder what a win would be like from my perspective… It’s obvious—more time with Avril. Not because she’s going to fall in love with me, but because I want to hang out with her. I want to know her. I want to understand this power she has over me.
“But I don’t have weeks and months to get the Boston hotel. You heard Worth,” Avril says. “At the end of next week, he’s moving on.”
“You can get him to extend his deadline,” Poppy says.
“Maybe by a week, but this is about money. He’s not going to hold off for long.”
“You could move in?” I suggest. I say it before I’ve thought through the implications. It just solves the problem of having more time together in a short space of time.
“With you?” Avril says.
“No, with your neighbor.”
“Live with you?” she asks, like the idea is absolutely ludicrous.
“For a week?” Poppy asks.
“Nine days,” I counter.
“So you already know I won’t fall in love with you in seven days,” Avril says. “You want more time.”
My brain switches into deal mode and all I see is the finish line. I want to close this thing—I want to convince Avril to agree. “I’m out two nights in the next week. There’s no way I can get out of them. But if you stay for nine nights, that means we get nine breakfasts together and seven dinners. Weekdays, we can’t leave before eight in the morning after at least thirty minutes of time together, and we have to be back by seven at night and we can’t go to bed before midnight.” As I listen to what I’m saying, I start wondering if I’m crazy for agreeing to this. It sounds ludicrous. Why am I negotiating myself a roommate?
Because it’s Avril.
Because it’s as if she’s woken up a part of me I didn’t realize existed. I don’t want to let that go. I don’t want to let her go.
“Midnight?” Poppy says. “That’s late.”
“What about weekends?” Avril asks.
“We start tomorrow and end the following Sunday,” I say. “We have two full weekends together. And we have to spend the days together at the weekends.”
“I get my own room?” she asks.
“Agreed. But if I’m in the apartment, you don’t get to hang out in there. We have to be together.”
“Done,” Avril says. “And then the following week, you go get me my Boston hotel.”
“You’ll be deep in love with me by then. You’ll realize we could never work together.”
“Maybe you’ll be in love with me and you’ll want to do anything that makes me happy.”
I laugh. “Not going to happen.”
Although if I could fall in love with anyone, I’m starting to think it might be Avril.
TEN
Avril
As I pull my suitcase up the steps to Ben’s apartment building, I start to wonder if someone was spiking my drinks last night. Why on earth would I agree to live with a man?