Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 160684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Which she never would. Because that seemed rude.
This morning when she woke up, she’d been a bit stiff but not really in any pain. And let’s face it, she was a thirty-five-year old, sleeping on a pull-out sofa. Being stiff in the mornings was to be expected.
It was five minutes to seven, and the sensible thing would have been to wait inside until she saw the car pull up. However, she didn’t want to give Grady any excuse to try to get inside her apartment. It actually looked better on the outside than it did on the inside. It was a big house that had been cut up into four one-bedroom apartments. She and Brooks lived on the bottom floor, which was good for her back. Going up and down stairs all the time wasn’t ideal. But the downside was that she could hear every time her neighbors moved around upstairs.
Including when they got overly enthusiastic in bed.
And considering the upstairs neighbor was a guy in his twenties, that happened a lot.
The car pulled up and this time, it was a longer car. The door opened as she moved toward it, and to her surprise, Steele got out.
He was dressed in a huge peacoat that must have been made for him. It fit him perfectly, and those broad shoulders didn’t dress in off-the-rack clothing.
He looked around, scowling at her.
Uh-oh.
Was he here to tell her that she was fired before she’d even started? She’d expected Grady, not him.
But she managed a big smile. “Good evening.”
“Not a fan of your neighborhood, Spitfire.”
Okay. So they weren’t doing pleasantries?
“It’s fine. Really. It looks worse than it is.”
He shot her a look that told her he thought that was pure bullshit. “Not a fan of you waiting out in the cold either.”
Right.
That made her feel surprisingly warm. Well, inside at least. She was still freaking cold.
“I’m good.”
His gaze moved over her. “Especially when you’ve got no hat on again.” He stared at her hands. “You got gloves on?”
“Um, no. They kind of fell to bits a few weeks ago, and since it’s nearly the end of winter, I didn’t bother buying any.”
“You didn’t bother buying more?” he asked in a low voice.
“Nope. But you know what would warm me up?”
“What’s that?” There was a decidedly sexy note to his voice that made a shiver go through her.
Bad Effie.
He’s your boss.
“Getting into the car and out of this cold.”
His eyebrows rose. “By all means, Spitfire.”
She still wasn’t sure about that nickname, but she didn’t protest as she grew closer.
He held out his hand to her.
“You want my handbag?” she asked.
“Nah, I was thinking of a high-five. You going to leave me hanging?”
Was he teasing her?
His lips twitched. “I was holding out my hand for you to hold on to while you climbed in.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Seemed the gentlemanly thing to do.”
“Are you often a gentleman?” she asked.
“No. And I’m beginning to see why I’ve never bothered.”
“What?”
“Being a gentleman takes patience and doesn’t always get you what you want straight away. Next time I need to get you somewhere, I’ll just pick you up and put you there.”
“Uh, well, that’s nice. But I’m not sure that’s something a boss is allowed to do.”
“I’m not a normal boss. And I’m not nice.”
No, he wasn’t. And she quickly climbed into the car, nearly tripping over the doorway in her haste.
Large hands grabbed her waist, steadying her and he lifted her in.
Shoot.
“Definitely going to just do what needs to be done next time,” he muttered.
And she was definitely in trouble here.
She nearly sighed in relief as she climbed into the back to find Grady sitting there in the corner. He was on his phone, seemingly uninterested in her and Steele’s conversation. She sat across from him, knowing it was likely a bad idea for her to face backward. She could get motion sickness just by watching a fishing show on TV. And she could never sit on the sideways seats on the bus.
“Took the two of you long enough. You’ve let out all the warm air.”
“Sorry,” she whispered as Steele folded his massive frame into the car, sitting beside Grady. “Hello, Mr. Grady.”
He glanced up at her. “Haven’t we had a conversation about what you call me?”
“Uh, yes, but that was before I was about to become your assistant. Shouldn’t I call you Mr. Grady?”
“No.”
Oh.
All right then. Effie guessed it was cool if he didn’t expect her to be formal with him.
Suddenly, he reached over toward her and hit a button that lowered the privacy screen.
“Raul, pull over,” he ordered, his gaze on her feet.
Was something wrong with her shoes? They were the same ones she’d worn last night. She didn’t really have anything else suitable.
“This isn’t happening.” Grady waved a hand down at her feet. “Don’t you have better shoes?”
Ouch. That hurt.