Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
When we reach our table, I slip off my coat and place it on the back of my chair, then take a seat as Charles does the same. After the waitress comes to take our drink orders, I pick up my menu. “Order anything you want,” Charles says, and I smile, thinking I was going to do that anyway.
By the time our dinner arrives, I’m tempted to go to the bathroom and escape out the window. Charles has been a gentleman, like he always was, but all night he has not stopped talking about himself, the people he knows, and the places he’s been. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out his bank account and credit score to show me how well he’s doing financially.
“So when the mayor asked if I’d come to his house for dinner, I, of course, had to say yes.”
“Of course,” I agree. I pick up my wineglass and take a sip, when I really just want to chug it like it’s a two-dollar beer.
“Would you like to come?”
Coughing and choking on wine, I pick up my napkin and cover my mouth. Once I can breathe again, I shake my head. “I’m busy then, but thanks.”
He frowns. “I haven’t even told you when it is.”
Oh, oops.
“Sorry, I thought you mentioned it was next weekend.”
His face falls. “I must have. It’s next Saturday.”
Thank goodness.
“Yeah, I thought that’s what you said.” I give him what I hope is a somber smile. “Unfortunately, I’m babysitting my brother’s two little ones for the weekend.” It’s not a lie. I told my brother a few weeks ago that I’d watch my nephews, Owen and Isaac, so he could take his wife away for a night. I don’t mind. My nephews, who are five and seven, are adorable and pretty easy to keep happy. Plus, they love spending time with their cool aunt.
“Maybe your mom can watch them for a few hours while you come with me?” he suggests.
My mom would take them for a few hours if I asked her to, especially for me to go out with Charles again, but I’m not going to ask her.
“She’s busy. I’m sorry; maybe another time.”
“Yeah, though I’m not sure when I’ll be invited to the mayor’s house for dinner again.” He picks his fork and knife back up and cuts into his steak, and I return to my salmon. When the check arrives after we’ve finished eating, he pays, making a production of doing it, and I almost roll my eyes but instead thank him for buying me dinner.
“Do you feel up to coming back to my place for a drink?” he asks as he pulls out of the parking lot of the restaurant.
Why do we not have the advanced technology of teleportation yet? “I have to be up early to open the salon. I’m sorry.”
“I understand work.” He glances at me. “I’d like to take you out again. Tonight was nice.”
“Dinner was nice.” Dinner was nice. Sitting across from him during dinner—not so much. “We’ll have to see if our schedules mesh.”
“Just text me. I’ll let you know if I’m available when you are, and we’ll work it out.”
I don’t agree or disagree, because I see my house come into view and a shadow on my porch in the shape of Bruce.
“Is that your neighbor’s dog?” Charles asks as he pulls in to park in my driveway.
“Yeah.”
“You should call animal control. No dog his size should be left unleashed to wander a family neighborhood.”
“He’s harmless.”
“He didn’t sound harmless when he was barking at me earlier.”
I ignore his statement and unhook my belt. “Thank you again for dinner.”
When I open my door, he grabs my wrist, stopping me before I can get out. “I would walk you up and kiss you good night at your door. I hope you understand why I’m not going to do that,” he says, tightening his grasp and pulling me closer to him. When I see his eyes drop to my mouth, I lean my head back and smile.
“It’s okay. I can walk myself.” I pull free from his hold, put one foot out of the car, then the other, and Bruce appears at my side. “Hey, big guy.” I rub the top of his head after I’ve slammed the car door closed, and Charles rolls down the window.
“Text me your schedule,” he demands before he gives me a smug smile, then rolls the window up and backs out of the driveway. I watch him go with my hand on the top of Bruce’s head, then look down at him. “What are you doing out so late?”
“He’s been waiting for you to get home.”
I spin around at the sound of Tyler’s voice and see him standing at the end of my sidewalk.
“He refused to leave your porch, and I wasn’t about to carry him home.”