Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I run a hand over my face. “Let’s get one thing straight between the two of us right now. Reid Wolfe may have hired me to make sure you’re safe, but I do not take orders from you. I don’t take orders from anyone.” Not anymore, anyway.
She cocks her head and narrows her pretty eyes. “Seems you take orders from Reid Wolfe.”
Fuck it all, the woman knows how to spear a knife right into my gut. “Actually, I don’t. He gives me a lot of leeway in my assignments. And even if I did take orders from him, he’s paying me very well. You’re not paying me a damned red cent, lady.”
She drops her jaw.
And I wait.
I wait for her nasty retort. Or for her sarcastic remark.
But it doesn’t come.
I’ll be damned.
Kelly Taylor’s got nothing.
I can’t help a smile. “I’ve finally rendered you speechless.”
She huffs and walks toward the door.
I follow.
I follow because it’s my job.
And because her ass looks damned nice in those black pants.
Once we’re outside, I nod down the street to a café I like. “We’re having lunch there.”
“What if I—”
“You are welcome to get into a cab or onto the subway and go home. I am having lunch there.” I turn, walk toward the café.
Once I get to the door, I look over my shoulder.
There she is, still holding her Macy’s bags.
“You know,” she says, “a gentlemen would’ve offered to carry my bags.”
“Who the hell told you I was a gentleman?” I open the door to the café, wait for her to enter, laughing uproariously until we’re seated.
18
KELLY
Leif and I get a table near the back of the café, and once a server comes by with waters, I open my menu to have something to do.
He seems different, now. I’m not sure how, and I’m not sure I like it.
Operative words being not sure.
Because part of me does like it.
I’m not sure why.
I scan the menu and decide on a turkey and avocado sandwich on sourdough.
Except now, if I close my menu, I’ll have to look at Leif, so I continue scanning, reading every entry once, twice, three times.
“Interesting reading?” he says from across the table.
I don’t bother looking up. “Just deciding what I’d like to eat, if that’s all right with you.”
“I like this place,” he says.
“Did I ask you if you like it?”
“Nope.” He peeks over my menu. “What I was going to say is that I like this place, and I always get the same thing. The Reuben sandwich. They have this delicious marble rye. And they make their thousand island dressing in house. It’s more savory than commercial thousand island.”
“Again, did I ask?”
“You didn’t. I don’t care. That’s what I’m having, and I felt like telling you.”
“I hate sauerkraut,” I say.
“Did I ask?” he says dryly.
I almost want to laugh. I almost want to laugh because he’s giving me a taste of my own medicine. While normally I hate that, from him it almost seems…
Endearing?
No, that can’t be.
“They have the best chocolate pie,” Leif continues.
“I don’t eat chocolate.”
“Did I ask?” This time his tone is snide.
And it’s not even slightly endearing. I don’t joke about chocolate.
“Hello,” a woman’s voice says. “I’m Terry and I’ll be your server today. Would you like anything to drink besides your water?”
I look up. Terry is blond and perky and can’t take her eyes off of Leif.
Which, for some reason, bugs the hell out of me.
I decide to order first, if only to draw her gaze away from Leif. “Yes. I’d like a Diet Coke.”
“Absolutely.” She beams as she returns to my companion. “And for you, sir?”
“Bourbon. Basil Hayden’s. Neat. And also a Diet Coke.”
Bourbon? He’s drinking during the day?
A lot of people drink at lunch. I don’t drink much at all, so it seems odd to me.
“Absolutely.” Terry makes a few notes. “I’ll get these up for you right away. Are you ready to order, or do you need more time?”
“I know what I want.” Leif looks at me. “Kelly?”
I close the menu, lamenting that now I’m going to have to talk to Leif. “I’ll have the turkey and avocado on sourdough. A side salad, Italian dressing.”
“And you, sir?” Perky Terry asks.
“The Reuben on marble rye. Side of fries. Extra ketchup.” Leif gives her a wide grin.
Terry’s cheeks redden, and she giggles. “Absolutely, sir.” She turns around and walks away from the table.
I watch Leif.
Leif watches Terry.
I seethe.
“So you’re a day drinker?” I ask.
“No.”
“But you just—”
“I guess you bring it out in me, Kelly.”
My cheeks warm.
Am I truly that difficult?
I already know the answer. Macy and I have talked about it ad nauseum.
Which reminds me. I have a session with Macy this afternoon.
Terry returns momentarily with our drinks, still beaming at Leif.
Which really gnaws at my insides.
Leif thanks her and then takes a drink of his bourbon, followed by a drink of Diet Coke.