Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
As I twist to face a stockbroker firm half a block up from the wedding planners’ office, I say, “Eh. I’ve heard the pay packet is good.”
“But the hours are long and lonely.” She sighs heavily before saying, “Anyway, I wasn’t calling solely to give you an early pass from the torture I’m sure you’re facing.” She waits for the silent praise she’s confident I’m issuing her. “I was wondering if you had a chance to review the proposal I forwarded you this morning?”
Even though she can’t see me, I shake my head. “I was a little short on time this morning.” Masturbating. “Can it wait until after the wedding? Casey is about to have a coronary. The guest list blew out from fifty to two hundred overnight.”
“How does that even happen?” She stops, places the blame solely on Casey’s shoulders since news leaked about who was catering the wedding, then says, “It could wait until after the wedding…”
I wait, certain there’s more.
I love being proven right.
“But then I’d have to reschedule your flight to…” Papers rustling sound down the line. “Avila.”
Since Emma seems to have an issue with her hearing, I speak slowly. “I… don’t… work… on… home… turf.”
“Za—”
“Goodbye, Emma.”
After waiting for a grumbled farewell, I disconnect our call, slide my phone into my pocket, then endeavor to build up the courage to return to the room that has me convinced it has to be five o’clock somewhere.
It takes longer than I care to admit to commence returning to the building I fled like a groom with cold feet. But before I get halfway down the footpath, I’m stopped by an unlikely source.
“Ho. Ho. Ho.”
With a playful twinkle in his eyes, a Santa who should be sweating on a warm December day like today thrusts his charity bucket my way.
Although my family is generous with donations, even more so at this time of the year since we relied on them so much during my childhood, the last charity Santa cleaned me out. I’ve not had time to replenish the cash I usually keep on hand in case of emergencies or payment terminal malfunctions.
I only have a few quarters in the coin section of my wallet, which I deposit into his bucket before attempting to step past him.
This time, I don’t get in a single step.
Santa gets up in my face again, his demand for more as apparent as his familiar facial features.
“Aren’t you the Santa from Friday—”
Before all my accusation leaves my mouth, the frustrated groan of a woman in need trickles into my ears. “They’re my clients! They would have never transferred their accounts to Black Industries if I hadn’t coerced them to the dark side.”
A security guard gives a curvy brunette with her back to me a miffed look while a second officer deposits her onto the footpath. Once they have her outside of Black Industries’ walls, the first officer hands her a photo frame from the file box he’s clutching.
As the two officers return to the security office in the foyer of a massive steel and glass structure, the brunette tosses out a range of obscenities. Some are in English, but most are in a language I don’t understand.
“Ungrateful, scum-sucking leeches,” she murmurs after her screams diminish the last of her energy.
When she spins around, my cock recognizes her long before my head.
“Kelsey?” My shock is understandable. Her glossy dark locks are pinned back in a low, modest ponytail, and her curves are covered with a skirt and a buttoned-up-to-the-neck blouse my grandma would wear.
She’s still gorgeous, but more professionally refined than the little sex pot who rocked my world two nights ago.
She’s excited, then panicked. “Zane.”
I’m unsure if my unexpected presence is responsible for the whitening of her cheeks or if she is horrified she cussed in front of Santa like a rapper laying down new tracks.
Even full-grown women don’t want to land on Santa’s naughty list.
He’s usually most girls’ first legitimate crush.
I realize I’m the cause of Kelsey’s embarrassment when she offers me a pathetic wave before she bolts down the footpath.
Desperate not to lose her in a sea of millions again, I take off after her, my steps unhindered by Santa since he’s no longer on the footpath demanding more cash.
“Hey. Whoa. Slow down,” I beg when it takes me jogging to keep up with her. “Can we at least swap deets before you disappear on me again? I can’t keep turning up in random Kelseys’ inboxes. I’ll most likely get arrested since I can only describe you as having legs that go for miles and breasts that taste like mint and chocolate.”
When she stops walking, my reply having the effect I’m aiming for, the confident won’t-stop-until-I-get-what-I-want woman I wrangled with only nights ago is nowhere to be seen. She looks upset, and it instantly switches my mood from personal to professional.