Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
She’s still standing in front of me, glaring up at me with every ounce of passion she owns. That’s saying something. I feel sorry for her, the way I seriously shouldn’t. All it does is complicate things. But I can’t let her call her father. I can’t let him break her heart, and that’s exactly what he would do. The whole situation with her bank card was bad enough, and it would pale compared to this.
“Fine. No need to call him. I know my place.” I incline my head a little, giving her a sarcastic bow. “But so help me God, if he puts a hand on you, I’m throwing him over the railing outside. And if you think I’m joking, just try me.”
“Fine. He won’t touch me.” She turns away, but not fast enough to hide her triumphant little grin.
A part of me still hates knowing she thinks she’s won. Like I’m giving in because I’m scared of my boss. When did everything shift? It wasn’t the night I made her come—I felt sorry for her even before then. Ever since the boss told me about his plans for her and how she should take a cooking class.
She finishes putting a fancy-ass charcuterie board together. Cheese, nuts, dried fruit, olives, crackers… it goes on and on. She keeps going back to a video on her phone like she’s comparing it to what the girl in the video did. I give it a pointed look on my way to the fridge for something to drink. “How many people do you expect anyway? That’s a lot for the four of you.”
She won’t look at me, which tells me there’s something she’s trying to hide. “Dean said something about maybe bringing his roommates, but there’s only another two of them.”
“Motherfucker! This is a party.”
“So what if we hang out while we rehearse how we’re going to make our presentation? Is that a crime?” She doesn’t put down the knife she’s holding before turning to me, and something tells me that’s not by accident. “Remember how you said I could have people over? That’s something we agreed on. And it’s going to be six people or fewer, so you can spare me that argument, too.” She turns back to her work, slicing a green apple as if it insulted her.
“I’m supposed to be checking people out before they come over here, remember?”
“I thought that was if I was going to his place, which I am not. You will be here the whole time.” She barks out a bitter laugh. “Believe me, screwing around is the last thing anybody has on their mind when you’re—”
I know why she cut herself off. I understand the point she was trying to make, and damn straight, it’s what I get paid to do, making sure nobody gets the wrong idea in their head when they’re around her.
But she walked into a trap. There’s one person in this condo at the present moment who most definitely thinks about screwing around when they’re in my presence.
“You should learn to quit while you’re ahead,” I suggest before uncapping my water.
“Fuck off.” She picks up the tray and carries it out to the living room, placing it in the center of the coffee table. It’s almost cute how fancy she’s trying to be for a bunch of kids who would probably be happier with a couple of pizzas. She wants to be the perfect little hostess.
And I get to sit back and watch. Lucky me.
I also get to sit back and watch her parading around the condo in a pair of leggings so tight they might as well be painted on. “You’re not wearing that, are you?” I ask with a tired sigh. Not that I mind for myself. Any opportunity to catch a glimpse of her ass is worth taking. But this isn’t just me.
“I’ll wear what I want.” She pushes her way past me on her way to her room. “But I was going to wear a big sweater anyway, and it covers my ass. Not everybody is as perverted as you.”
“Don’t you wish they were, though?” I don’t always say what she brings to mind, but right now feels like an exception. She breaks stride just enough for me to know I got through to her but continues to her room anyway while muttering a few choice words.
It’s only another ten minutes or so before the intercom buzzes. It’s the front desk. “I have a couple of girls down here saying they’re visiting. Posey and Zoe.”
“Send them up.” I know better than to hope the guys don’t show, but I still can’t help wishing they would stay away. I can’t come up with any reason to hate this Dean guy except for how he looks at her. He’s had it bad since that first day they were assigned their projects.