Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“It was.”
I laser him with a look that should scream bullshit. “A fireable offense?”
“Obviously, or I wouldn’t have fired her.”
I move closer, which is probably a bad idea because of how good he looks right now, but still, I’m like a damn moth to a flame. I can’t help myself. “Now I need the tea.”
“What do you think this is?” He sounds annoyed.
I smile broadly. “Teatime?”
“We aren’t friends, Hellfire.”
I puff out my lower lip. “You are no fun.” Rolling my eyes, I continue to press. “Just tell me.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Of course I do. I work for you now. What would get me fired . . . ?” Because I’d do it just to piss him off, knowing it would take a lot more for my father to allow him to fire me.
“Tell me, tell me,” I chant.
Mr. Grumpy lets out a sigh, obviously annoyed at my persistence, but hey, maybe I’ll get what I want.
“She hit on me.”
His words wipe the smile right off my face, but not for the reason you’d think.
Hitting on him would be easy. I’d happily do it, and not even to get fired, but that’s not what pisses me off. It’s the fact that she did it.
Now the questions start to swim in my brain . . . and I can’t shut them up.
Did they sleep together?
Are they an item?
Does he like her?
Wait, he fired her, so that means he didn’t do any of the above, right?
“Interesting. Is this your thing?”
His brow rises. “Thing?”
“Hooking up with your assistants.”
“First of all, no. Second of all, fuck no. My sister is my assistant.”
My stomach drops. My dumb jealousy. When will I learn to keep my mouth shut? I always do this.
Not only am I a klutz in life, but I’m also notorious for putting my foot in my mouth.
I look up at him sheepishly and try to think of something, anything, to break the tension threatening to suffocate the room.
Dane Sinclair is extra surly right now. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. There is no warmth in his gaze.
I need to defuse this moment, but how?
“Help me walk the tightrope,” I sheepishly mutter out in a pathetic attempt to make him smile and right his mood.
It’s not going to help. If anything, I’ve probably pissed him off with my little joke, but I had to try something.
It’s not that I care if he hates me, but accidentally insulting his sister? That’s not okay.
Dane hasn’t spoken, but his lips tip up a smidge at my words.
Interesting. Maybe he doesn’t hate it that much after all.
“I’m sorry about my comment,” I say after a minute of silence.
“It’s fine. Now why don’t you tell me where I need to go for the interview so I don’t screw it up again.”
The big elephant in the room, why I’m here, because he missed a huge interview, and I had to fix it.
“I’ve set it up at a coffee shop in town. Is that okay?” For some reason, I feel awkward, so I look down at my hands. The material of my shirt is bunched up, and I push it down for something to do with my fingers.
“Are you coming with me?” His voice drops low; it’s a different sound than I’m used to. Tilting my head up, I meet his stare.
His blue eyes seem softer today. There is a vulnerability in the way he looks at me.
I might not know him well, but I can tell he wants me there. I’m not sure how I know, but I do, so I make my decision. “I am.”
His reaction is everything I need to confirm that my assumption was correct. It’s not that it was obvious. No words are said, he simply nods, but I see how his back muscles relax.
I nibble on my bottom lip as I process the fact that I’m now going to be spending time with him outside of the practice facility. I have never been with him outside of this place since I started working here. My stomach feels like butterflies are flying. Nerves? Or excitement.
“Do you want to drive separately?”
Please say separate. I’m not sure I can handle the small confines of a car.
“Together.”
Shit.
I smile broadly, pretending I’m not affected by this news, but I am.
My hands slightly shake by my sides as we walk, making our way out of the building. If I’m this nervous walking with him, what will I do in the car?
How does this man make me so unhinged?
It’s not that I’m normally calm and collected, but with him, it feels like I’m holding a balloon, and I can’t stay tethered to the ground.
Once outside, he leads us to his car.
A shiny navy-blue Range Rover.
It’s not what I expected from him, but I guess I don’t know what I thought he would drive. He’s not reckless like Hudson, who I picture in a sports car, and Aiden is down to earth, I guess I expected a tank. Something extremely safe. Like a Hummer.