Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
His hand dives into his jacket pocket to grab it.
“I need to take this,” he tells me. “Print out that contract and get it to the Bogners as quickly as you can.”
I nod in understanding before he steps into his office and shuts the door behind him with a kick of his shoe.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Evie
There are a lot of things that are worse than scoring a free fancy coffee this morning and lunch at Nova.
The Bogners are kind people, so I wasn’t surprised when they asked me to join them for lunch. Their lawyer, Chloe Scott, was just as welcoming as they were.
I could tell she wanted a few moments alone with them, so I excused myself and went to find the washroom. I never made it there. Instead, I settled on a bench in a hidden nook near the corridor that leads to the washrooms.
I spent the next fifteen minutes exchanging text messages with my mom and dad. My mom claimed that she was doing great, but my dad rained on her parade when he told me she’s been crying herself to sleep each night since her patient died.
My dad is a dermatologist, so even though he’s never dealt with the life and death situations that my mom is finding herself in, he has a unique understanding of the bond that can form between a medical professional and a patient.
He promised he’d grab some flowers on his way home tonight and give them to her from both of us.
Once I tied those text conversations up with a bow, I wandered back to the table to find the contract signed, so I sealed the envelope and delivered it to Mr. Hunt’s desk since he was nowhere in sight.
I’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes, hoping he won’t make it back to the office today. Just as I’m about to head to the break room for a mid-afternoon jolt of caffeine in the form of a bad cup of coffee, the elevator dings to signal its arrival on this floor.
As soon as I hear the approaching footsteps, I cringe because I sense Mr. Hunt is about to come into my view when he rounds the corner.
He does.
I assumed he went out to lunch, too, but he looks more like he spent an hour or two with a woman wearing a bright shade of pink lipstick.
His hair is mussed, but that’s not what I can’t stop staring at. A smudge of lipstick trails over the corner of his mouth toward his jawline. The evidence of his midday rendezvous is on his tie, too, in the form of a bright pink streak. It’s impossible to ignore.
His gaze drops to it, probably because I can’t take my eyes off of it.
“Dammit,” he curses softly, swiftly untying the knot of the tie before he yanks it off to examine it.
He rubs the pad of his thumb over the lipstick, smearing it even more.
“It’s fucking ruined.” Letting out a growl of frustration, he drops the tie on my desk. “I take it that you didn’t run into any issues getting the contract signed?”
Not counting the woman who stopped me on my way back to the office to ask if my hair was real, I’d say there were no issues at all.
She tugged on a strand. I politely asked her to back off. A man in a superhero costume headed to Times Square captured the entire encounter on his phone. He told me I could buy the video for the “low, low price of a hundred bucks.” I told him where to shove his phone.
“It went off without a hitch,” I tell my boss. “You’ll find the signed contract on your desk.”
He glances in that direction. “Good.”
I wait for him to rush over to tear the envelope open so he can stare at the Bogners’ signatures, but he keeps his gaze pinned on my face.
I don’t mind when he can’t take his eyes off me, but it’s making me question whether I have a wayward piece of arugula stuck between my teeth.
I close my lips and hurriedly swipe my tongue over my teeth, but it’s all smooth sailing.
I debate telling him about the lipstick on his face. He did warn me when there was ketchup and mustard on my chin, but this is lipstick.
“Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” I ask to move the day along.
I still need to hang around for at least a few more hours until I can break free of this place. My only plans for tonight are sleep and more sleep.
I’m devoting time later this week to Lottie, and more wedding planning including choosing just the right champagne for the reception, and the flavor of the wedding cake.
His hand jumps to his chin to rub it. “I need a new silk necktie. Silver would be ideal. I usually purchase my ties when I’m in Milan, but I’d like you to go to Berdine and find a comparable one.”