Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
The fact that she rambles and stumbles over her words is high on the list of reasons why we get along so well.
The fact that she never holds my gym flake out moments against me is another.
One of the perks of working for The Frost Luxury Hotel Corporation is the free gym membership to Gym Life who partners with that company to provide guest passes whenever there is a nearby facility and equipment to the private rec room when there isn’t.
Getting to the gym itself?
Fairly hard.
Affording a gym membership when I can barely afford rent some months?
Improbable.
And it’s not like I’m one of those people who hate working out. I actually love working out! Our gym even has this thing called Goat Yoga that includes time to pet the baby animal. Seriously, who doesn’t want cuddle time included in their exercise?
Striking up a conversation with Jaye one random Saturday morning after I tripped over the leg of the chair, she was occupying at the smoothie bar led to taking the same class. And then sharing smoothies in the bar. And then a couple meet ups to share coffee and shop for books at Crack That. We’ve had lunch twice and dinner once – that one included her very kind, very hot ex-military boyfriend, Archer Cox. While I wouldn’t call us “besties”, she is the only friend that I have. It’s kind of hard to keep any kind of relationship – platonic or romantic – around “mom-ing” three little sisters, keeping an eye out on an impressively forgetful father, arranging family gatherings during my mother’s momentary stints home, and catering to my billionaire boss’s ever bizarre whim.
Jaye never complains.
She simply says she understands.
Sometimes I get the feeling that once upon a time she once needed someone to be more compassionate about whatever was going on in her life which is why she aims to provide that for others.
“Thanks?” I retort, pretty sure she just gave me a compliment yet anxious to verify. “I mean…that’s something to say thank you for, right? Like people enjoy audio books, don’t they?”
“Some do. Archer definitely does while his hands are busy.”
My face thoughtlessly scrunches as I scoot to the edge of the mattress that’s furthest from the creepy carved wooden statue that also haunted me throughout the night. “Is that an insight to your sex life?”
Her squeaks of shock remind me of my own. “Oh! Oh! Oh! No! That’s not – I didn’t mean – It shouldn’t have-” An exasperated sigh is shoved into the conversation. “Forget everything I just said and tell me why you’re not meeting me for hot yoga this morning.”
“Because my boss-”
“The crazy rich woman who you went to three separate bakeries for, all because she wanted a graham cracker crust apple pie, but the crust had to be made of Teddy Grahams?”
“Four bakeries,” I politely correct prior to accidentally clipping the back of my heel on the frame of bed, “but yeah. Same insane lady.” Rubbing the nicked spot is attached to the remainder of my explanation. “She decided to further inconvenience my entire life by forcing me to move into this lake front mansion to babysit her nephew around the clock.”
“Well…” the long-drawn-out pause is used to shift her tone. “Children shouldn’t be left unsupervised for very long depending on their age.”
“This twenty-six-year-old who has skin covered in the most beautiful pieces of artwork I’ve ever seen and is built like a marble statue I’d do six months in prison over for molesting during my first vacation in Rome shouldn’t need a babysitter.”
Her giggles act as wordless encouragement to continue.
“And because how delicious he looks isn’t enough of a complication to the situation, he’s philosophical. And scholarly. And an artist, which as an art-lover – who doesn’t get to hang out with many other art-lovers to casually talk about Manu or Diego Velázquez – is like the crown jewel of finds in a guy you wanna date!”
“What I’m hearing is you wanna date your boss’s nephew.”
“No, what you’re hearing is why it’s cruel and unusual punishment for me to have to babysit my boss’s nephew. Though…I guess…technically he’s my boss for the next few weeks.”
“So, what I’m really hearing is you wanna bang your boss.”
“That’s not – That didn’t – I don’t think-”
“Relax, June!” More snickers join the conversation. “It’s a fairly normal feeling to have the hots for your boss.”
“Do you?”
“Um…my boss isn’t really my type. Primarily because she’s a woman and to each their own, but that’s not the page in life that I’m on.”
It’s my turn to lightly laugh.
“Anyway, I get it. You gotta work. Hopefully, we can meet up next weekend.”
“Or maybe one day randomly during the week for dinner?”
“Maybe! Let’s text it out.”
“Deal.”
Ending the call reveals to me a new text I don’t recall hearing come in.