Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
I shook my head and cleared my throat. “I’ll let people know to expect you back at work.”
Ireland stood, and I followed suit. She extended her hand. “Thank you for getting involved. Obviously, you didn’t have to. Especially after the horrible emails I sent.”
I nodded and shook. “I think everything worked out the way it should have.”
She gathered her purse and started to walk away, then turned back. “Oh…and I gave you my number for lunch. Obviously this means I can’t go out with you.”
“Of course.” I smiled. “Turns out you’re not my type anyway.”
Ireland narrowed her eyes. “And what exactly is your type?”
“The non-pain-in-the-ass type. Have a good day, Ms. Richardson.”
Chapter 5
* * *
Ireland
“You look insane, you know.” Mia looked up at the hat on my head. It was totally lopsided and had two weird points that stuck up. It gave off sort of a homeless-jester vibe. Not to mention it was going to be seventy-five degrees today. But I wore it on my drive to work every day anyway.
“You’re just jealous because Aunt Opal doesn’t crochet for you.”
“I love Opal. But, yeah…not jealous your aunt who is almost blind left me off her Christmas crochet gift list.”
I opened the passenger door and grabbed my bag. “Thank you for getting up and driving me at this ungodly hour. I didn’t want to call an Uber and risk getting to work late on my first day back. I owe you one.”
“You owe me a thousand. I’ll just add it to your tab.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“What time should I pick you up?”
“You don’t have to. I’ll get a ride or grab an Uber to the tire shop to pick up my car. I’ll just see you at home later.” The tire shop had called to tell me I also desperately needed brakes and an alignment. So my flat tire had turned into two days without a car.
“Are you sure? I have coverage at the spa today. In fact, I have no idea what to do with myself since Christian talked me into not doing treatments and only managing the place now. I can pick you up. We can even grab some lunch. Better yet, I’ll bring you back to the salon, and we’ll get a couple’s massage. My treat!”
Mia owned a successful medi-spa—the kind that did facials, Botox injections, massages, and laser treatments. Her fiancé was trying to teach her to be a manager instead of a worker bee, so she could prepare to open a second location.
“I’d love to. But I’m going to have to work late to catch up. Maybe we can grab some dinner when I get home?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t. I promised Christian I’d make him his favorite dinner—tortellini ala Mia.”
“What’s that?”
“Tortellini in a cream sauce. He loves the sauce, so I let him paint it on me when he’s done.”
“TMI, friend.” I laughed. “TMI. But I thought he wasn’t coming home until tomorrow?”
“He changed his flight.” She smiled like a bride three weeks away from her wedding day. “He said he missed me too much to stay another night after his last meeting. So he’s taking the last flight home. I’ll probably just crash over there tonight.”
I opened my mouth and pointed inside it with my finger, making a gagging noise. But the truth was, I envied her relationship with her fiancé. I wouldn’t believe most men were coming home early just to see their girlfriend of three years, but Christian was as head over heels for Mia now as when they first got together.
I got out of the car and held the door.
Mia wagged her finger at me. “Now be a good girl while you’re all alone tonight, and don’t email any CEOs to tell them what you think of them.”
I was never going to live that down. “I have a job again, don’t I?”
She shook her head. “No idea how that managed to work out.”
Yeah. Me either.
***
“Great show today, Ireland.”
“Thanks, Mike.”
My first day back on the air in two weeks felt good, and my adrenaline was already pumping to get started on tomorrow’s show. I had a renewed sense of pride in my work.
Siren poked her head into my office. She looked nervous. “Hey. So I wanted to clear the air. I hope you know I had nothing to do with Bickman giving me your job. I was shocked when he came to tell me he was promoting me.”
I could have pretended I believed her bullshit and gone back to the two of us playing ignorant, but she was young and needed someone to set her straight.
“Come in, Siren. Close the door behind you.”
She did, but stood right in front of the door.
I motioned to the chairs on the other side of my desk. “Please, take a seat.”
The poor thing looked pale. She’d played up to Bickman, and I’m sure she’d been thrilled when he handed her my job on a silver platter. But the bottom line was he’d abused his position, and really, she hadn’t done anything wrong…except maybe break girl code.