Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Feigning great interest in my watch, I lean against the wall near the lounge door, cursing beneath my breath as I hear Rictor holding court from within about his Au Jus and roast beef sandwich preferences. If it were anyone else but him, I might be able to sneak in undetected.
But Rictor won’t let this go. Rictor will shame Eric on principle, to show him his place, and not give a damn if Eric has irritable bowel syndrome or something that necessitates the use of a stall over a urinal.
Seriously, what are the rest of the underling men in this joint going to do if nature rings bell number two instead of number one?
I’m concerned for them, I really am, but at the moment I’m more concerned about peeing my pants.
Biting the inside of my cheek, hoping the pain will distract from my bladder’s banshee howl long enough for me to get downstairs to the street, buy a coffee, and get a token for the lavatory from the militant, bathroom-defending woman who runs Cup of Joes, I walk-squirm down the hall. I’m nearly to the T-intersection that will lead to the exit, when Jack swings around the corner.
The moment he sees me, his brows snap together in disapproval. He glances over his shoulder before crossing quickly to where I’m hugging the wall. “What’s wrong? What happened to the walk? You were doing so well.”
“That was before the only stall in the men’s bathroom was broken,” I whisper, toes squirming inside my too-large men’s dress shoes as I clench my thighs together, briefly wondering how absorbent my tube sock really is.
Jack’s eyes widen in immediate understanding. With another quick glance over his shoulder, he takes me by the upper arm, half dragging me down the hall, unlocking his door, and guiding me into his private office.
And there, across the room, near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking lower Manhattan, is the door to Jack’s private bathroom.
Thank.
God.
Without another thought, I rush for the door, slamming it behind me as I flip on the light.
Several minutes later, I emerge from the bathroom limp with relief to find Jack leaning against his desk with an amused smile on his face.
“Better?” he asks.
“So much better.” I sigh, shoulders sagging as my eyes roll heavenward. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I put a call into maintenance about fixing the stall ASAP. In the meantime, use the senior exec lounge. I’ll make sure all the guys on the team know it’s free for their use.”
“Thanks again,” I say, sufficiently recovered from my emergency to become aware of the fact that Jack and I are alone. Very aware. And also a little nervous. “So, um, good meeting this morning.”
“Yeah,” he says, lips curving on one side. “You’re killing it, El. Are you sure you don’t want to come work for us for real? Give up the glamorous life of a work-at-home journalist and help us make even more ridiculous amounts of money?”
“Ha! Um, no…” I smile too wide but figure it’s acceptable to let my guard down now that we’re alone. “But I’m flattered. And glad I haven’t let you down.”
“No, you haven’t,” he says, sobering. “But what about things on your end? How’s the broker workload meshing with your article sleuthing?”
“Fine. Though I’d like access to Blair’s records if possible. My sixth sense is tingling… She tried to pawn off her workload on me this morning.” I give a small shake of my head. “She said she wants my outsider’s perspective on potential candidates, but something about it felt like a set-up. Or at least a test.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t usually ask brokers for hiring input.” Jack runs a hand through his wavy hair, and I can’t help but flash back to the park yesterday. His lips on mine. My fingers sliding into those silky locks…
“Blair’s a good manager, though,” he insists, pulling me out of my reverie.
“If you think so.” I swallow the urge to tell him about spotting Blair in Ryan’s office. For all I know, she has every right to be in there, and I don’t want to sound like a petty underling with a grudge.
“My guess is she’s miffed about me fast-tracking your hire and is looking for a fight,” Jack says.
“Let’s hope she doesn’t look too hard. My credentials are a joke, Jack.”
“Not true.” He gives me a conspiratorial wink. “I’ve made the necessary adjustments to your personnel file. On paper, you’re legit.”
“Still. I’d rather fly below the radar with Blair.”
Jack offers a sympathetic smile. “Her focus on you will fade soon enough—she’s got a lot of other priorities. But if you can gain her trust, she’d be a good resource.”
“I have plenty of resources,” I say.
“You may have made some friends, but no one knows the inner workings of S and H like Blair. It’s why she has a corner office and six weeks’ paid vacation. Woman knows her stuff.”