Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 12803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 64(@200wpm)___ 51(@250wpm)___ 43(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 64(@200wpm)___ 51(@250wpm)___ 43(@300wpm)
“How the hell do you know all of this?” I ask, already knowing the fucking answer.
I hold my breath, waiting for his response. “A gorgeous little birdy told me.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I flip the fucker off.
“Thanks for lying to your best friend all this time,” I huff, but I’m not upset with him. His first loyalty lies with his soulmate.
“Ditto.” He isn’t playing into my pity party.
“Goddamn. How did I become this pussy-whipped moron?” I rub the back of my neck to get all the blown circuits in my mind firing.
“The love a good woman does it to the best of us.” He slaps me on the back. “Don’t try to figure it out, just thank God for your good fortune and run with it.” That sounds like a plan to me. All my plans for the future have changed. In the last few moments, my whole life has done an incredible one-eighty. “After you go grovel your ass off and convince Piper not to go too hard on you.”
“Wish me luck.” I don’t even bother turning off my computer. After grabbing my jacket, I race for the door. I’m not going to waste another second.
“You’re going to need it,” he calls behind me. Fucker. “Before you get too caught up in your quest to regain your manhood, you have actual work to do. Don’t forget you have a one o’clock meeting with Desmond at the bank.” Fuck me with a wooden spoon. I almost missed the meeting I’ve been working for months to get.
“I got it. And my manhood isn’t suffering at all,” I call behind me while my plans circle my mind on a constant loop.
“I don’t know. You’ve been acting like a pussy for two goddamn years.”
“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.” The usual state of our friendship and business relationship. After graduating from college, Wild and I decided to open our investment firm. His boring, cautious attitude works perfectly with my devil-may-care disposition. He reins me in while I force him to take necessary chances. It’s actually a little embarrassing that I ignored my take-charge side and let this relationship with my little spitfire spiral in the wrong direction.
Things start to fall into place for me. I kill two birds with one stone and grab the engagement ring I bought two years ago from the safe deposit box at Desmond’s bank after our successful meeting.
“I have a favor to ask.” Jenna, my best friend and our Editor-in-Chief at Curvy Cuties magazine, strolls in my office door. “And you can’t refuse.”
“Then it’s a demand, not a favor.” I sit back and wait for her to hit me with it.
“It all depends on how you look at it,” she teases and sits on the sofa in front of my desk. Not an easy task with her massive tummy.
“Just spit it out.” I’ve already had the day from hell, and I’m not sure how many more surprises I can handle right now. “I’m not in the mood to deal with you beating around the bush.”
“Okay.” While Jenna rambles on, I space out, thinking about the little white stick I have in my purse. I’ve been feeling sick for the last few weeks and finally decided to take a pregnancy test this morning. To reassure myself that I’m not pregnant… or so I thought. When the little positive sign showed up on the tiny plastic screen, I went into autopilot damage control mode.
I stuck the life-altering little piece of plastic in a Ziploc bag and hid it in my purse, figuring I’d worry about it another time. In other words, I’m burying my head in the sand like I’ve been doing for the last two years. Burying my head in the sand, hoping our secret fling would somehow morph into a lifelong commitment didn’t seem to get me anywhere. Except knocked up and terrified. Now, I’ll have to figure out how I’m going to handle my new circumstances.
“Have you listened to a word I’ve said?” Jenna snaps her fingers in front of my face, dragging me back from la-la land.
“Yep,” I totally lie. “Every single word.”
“Then what did I say?” Oops.
“Uh.” She stares at me with a raised eyebrow while I attempt to fudge my way out of this.
“See? You’re ignoring me.”
Jenna and I have been friends since way back. Actually, we were both still in diapers when we first met. She spent more time with me and my family than she did at her foster home. In high school and college, we added three more girls to our tight circle of friends.
In college, Jenna landed an intern position at Ms. Southern magazine, and her hard work and ingenious ideas impressed the owner, Ms. Milly. When the elderly lady decided to retire, she made a very generous proposal to my friend—control of the magazine in exchange for a small percentage of the profits which are donated to a women and children’s charity in Ms. Milly’s name.