Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
“But why?” Lauren asks, leaning back as she sips her coffee from a giant, white mug. Thankfully, the place she suggested was not Cups of Joe. It is a cute little café with employees who actually seem happy, probably because they get to wear jeans and flattering black aprons rather than the khaki-on-khaki look that was Joe’s uniform of choice. “I mean, why do this if he doesn’t have a kid?”
“I think his assistant is actively trying to get canned,” I explain, picking at the bagel sandwich that I got. “This was her way of trying to push him over the edge.”
“Okay, weird, but then why didn’t he just cancel your contract?” Lauren asks. “Otherwise, this is a waste of money for him, right?”
“Oh, money clearly isn’t a problem for him,” I grumble. “Rich prick. But my guess is he’ll fire me when I least expect it for some kind of power play. That was totally his vibe.”
Lauren shakes her head. “Douche. I hate that. How old is he? Some ancient CEO just looking for anybody to put under his thumb for kicks?”
I shift on the plastic chair that I’m sitting on. “Well, not exactly.”
Lauren arches an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘not exactly’? You’ve spent the last thirty minutes telling me about how horrible this guy is.”
“I mean, he’s actually pretty young,” I say. “I mean, maybe thirty? Thirty-ish? But, uh, not ancient. No. Not at all.”
Oh, fuck. I feel the blush practically explode onto my cheeks. This is one of my plights as a pale girl. Lauren’s mouth drops open and her eyes light up.
“Ohmigod,” she says. “He’s totally fucking hot, isn’t he?”
“Quiet down!” I snap at her, seeing as no fewer than four people just looked our way. “He’s fine. No, not like, fine-fine. I mean, okay-fine. Perfectly mediocre.”
Lauren grins. Big-big. “Well, this just got interesting,” she says. “And I bet he’s into you, too. That’s why he didn’t break the contract.”
“Oh, please,” I say, rolling my eyes. “He made it very clear that I was not his type.” I gesture at my hoodie and leggings as proof.
“Classic deflection,” Lauren says.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” I tell her. “Like I said, he’s going to fire me.”
“Pretty sure you said you have a contract,” Lauren retorts. “And that you were satisfactory. So it sounds like you’re hired. He might be rich, but he doesn’t sound stupid. Maybe he’s got a dog you can nanny.”
I sit up a little straighter. “You think?”
Lauren shrugs. “He probably thought you were cool and could use the help. Just show up tomorrow for your ‘nanny’ gig and make it clear that you plan to get paid, baby or not.”
I think on this. It’s not totally insane, considering I saw that his actual assistant was openly hostile. Perhaps he’s a rich weirdo and he plans to keep paying for a nanny he doesn’t need, in addition to the assistant who doesn’t assist. But regardless, Lauren’s right. For the moment, I do have a job. Checks will be signed. Rent can get paid.
“I guess,” I admit. “God though, I cannot tell my sister about this.”
“Oh, ignore her,” Lauren says, waving a hand. “Look, I love your sister, but she’s practical. And safe. Life is more fun with a bit of danger and spontaneity.”
“Yeah, I suppose. But she wasn’t kidding about how expensive this city is. How much this master’s degree is going to cost me,” I say, hating that my sister was right.
Lauren grabs my hand, forcing me to look at her. Her gaze is intense, and she knows it. “Liberty, if your sister wants to live a life without chances, then that’s her journey. But you wanted this, right? You wanted the crazy New York life full of adventure. So take it, Libby. All the wild twists. And don’t let her make you feel guilty.”
“You’re right.” I nod, tearing up in spite of myself. Fuck, it’s been a weird day. “Now let’s talk about you. How’s newlywed life?”
Another hour later, we go our separate ways. I head back home and have a microwaveable dinner—slightly more complicated than expected seeing as the “Stop” button doesn’t work—and then eat by myself at the tiny table. The other roommates are all out at their respective, normal jobs, even Delaney, who is checking out a new boutique for her to sell out of. But I don’t mind. After an afternoon with Lauren, I’m more than happy for a little alone time. It makes my introvert heart happy.
As I’m poking through my slightly-crispy fried rice, I decide it’s high time for a little Googling of my new boss. I hadn’t bothered before, what with the short notice and assuming I was being placed with a run-of-the-mill middle-aged divorced corporate dad.
Mason comes up pretty quickly, particularly since I’m able to search both his name and his company name: Cooper Publishing. I find out that he’s thirty-four and the only son of Jeffrey and Rosemary Cooper, into kayaking, and a strong supporter of rescue dog organizations. Jackpot. Maybe he does have a dog that needs nannying. I’ve heard stranger things in New York. As I keep scrolling through, my phone screen lights up with photos of Mason in suits, shaking hands in front of various publishing events. There’re also a few articles about “Mason Cooper, son of legendary businessman Jeffrey Cooper, set to take over family publishing business.” Well, that explains how he climbed the ladder so quickly and runs a company at such a young age. One of the articles links to the company Instagram, and from there, I find my way to Mason’s public page.