Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
My palms are sweating, my throat is tight, and my heart rate is elevated. Unfortunately, Willy’s anger is preferable to the guilt trip my mother will lay on me if I back out of dinner. It’s an impossible position, but Mom guilt supersedes even clown detail, which is saying something.
I knock on Willy’s door and wait for her “come in” before I poke my head into her office. She fluffs out her hair. She was probably wearing it in a topknot. She does that often in the summer because her hair is so thick. I’m sure the back of her neck gets hot.
Her pen is clamped between her teeth, and she’s wearing my favorite blue-light glasses. The frames are tortoiseshell with baby blue arms. She is stunning.
She removes the pen from between her teeth and glares at me. “Do you want to die today, Dallas?”
“I brought you lunch. And flowers, and I’m sorry.” I envision her stabbing me with the pen in her hand when I tell her the news, which does nothing to calm any part of me down.
Willy frowns as I set the vase of flowers on the small conference table. I edge closer and set the latte and takeout bag on her desk, then quickly step back.
She eyes me with suspicion and crosses her arms. “What did you do now?”
“I didn’t do anything per se.” I back up several steps. I need a quick escape route, and I have the gift of speed on my side. “I thought your office could use a little pop of color.” I motion to the flowers. “And I know you’re busy with last-minute details around the celebrity hockey game this weekend, and you probably haven’t taken a break for lunch, so I brought you something to eat and a latte for your caffeine fix.” I take several more cautious steps backwards.
Willy narrows her beautiful brown eyes at me, then pries the lid off the latte. “Is this the lavender one?”
“Yeah. Half sweet with oat milk.”
“That’s my favorite.” It sounds like an accusation. “Why are you being so nice?”
I swallow loudly. “I’m pre-apologizing through gifts.” I know it will take a lot more than a couple of bouquets of flowers and a lunch or two, but it’s a start. I back up another step.
When I reach the doorway, I rap on the doorframe and blurt, “My parents are coming down for the charity game and they want to have dinner with you after, and I’m sorry about that.” I duck as she hurls a stress ball at my head. She only misses because my reflexes are so good.
“What the hell, Dallas? There’s no way I’m having dinner with your parents. Tell them no.”
“I can’t. My mom’s hurt that I didn’t tell her about us before I posted on social media, which is not your fault, it’s my fault. But she will make dinner happen, Wills. There’s no getting out of it for either of us. She will corner you at the game and insist on making food for you while also reminding you that meals are important and everyone has to eat, and I’m sorry, but it’ll be a great meal. I know you’ll sign me up for clown detail, and that’s something I’ll have to live with. It’ll be really casual. You don’t need to bring anything, just your beautiful self. I’m gonna go before you kill me.”
I book it down the hall, and another stress ball comes flying past me, but I’m fast, and she’s wearing heels, so I outrun her for now.
CHAPTER 9
HEMI
Idon’t bother chasing Dallas down the hall. I’m in heels, and he’s a pro hockey player, so there are zero chances I’ll be able to catch him.
I glare at the bouquet of flowers sitting in the middle of my conference table. I refuse to have anything that smells this nice and looks this pretty in my office—especially when it was given to me by the person who has made my life a complete nightmare and seems intent on continuing this trend. I take the flowers across the hall to Shilpa’s office. She’s not there to say no because she has a meeting off-site. She and I have a date tonight to discuss the dumpster fire my life has become in the last twelve hours. I’ve put the group chat on hold until further notice. Hammer is out today with Flip and Ash at a pediatric hospital visit.
It’s not enough that we have the celebrity hockey game in three days, now I also get to deal with the stress that comes with being Dallas’s fake girlfriend.
I flop down in my chair and grudgingly sip the latte. Then I moan at how perfectly delicious it is. “That fucker.” It makes me unreasonably angry that Dallas knows exactly what I like. He probably asked Shilpa.