Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Our second date had been on Saturday when I’d taken him to see a movie. I remembered very little of the movie now, but that was because I’d spent most of those two hours in the dark trying to sneak my hand into his lap or under his shirt.
My friend’s expression did not brighten. If anything, it grew cloudier. He shifted forward in his seat, resting his forearms on the table. “Did you warn him that you can’t cook? Or is your chef preparing the meal ahead of his arrival?”
I waved a hand at him. “No, no. She’s not involved in this. I want to make it for him. Even hoping to give Wilkins the night off…if he’ll let me. Just the two of us in the house. No interruptions, and no one to make him feel uncomfortable.”
Declan glanced around the restaurant as if to make sure that no one was listening before he continued. Not that anyone was paying us the slightest bit of attention. The Avenue was an old-school steak house in the heart of downtown that was a call back to London’s gentlemen’s social clubs with lots of old leather, dark wood, dull brass, and a hint of cigar smoke for ambience. Everything on the menu was slabs of meat and roasted vegetables served with a side of whiskey. While the place might take its decor from old men’s clubs, there were still plenty of women filling the tables, chatting over pints of Guinness and eating thick cuts of pork chops bigger than their fists.
“Maybe you should consider why he’s feeling uncomfortable. He could lose his job if someone discovers he’s screwing his boss. Or have you both forgotten about that company rule?”
Now it was my turn to frown, but I directed it at my forsaken whiskey rather than my friend. “We haven’t forgotten. It’s why we’re being careful.”
“I doubt you’re being careful enough. You’re going to find yourself at the end of a lawsuit.”
I sat up. “Byron wouldn’t sue me or the company. He’s not like that, and you know it.”
Declan paused, and several seconds ticked by before he nodded once. “You’re right. I don’t think he would sue you. He doesn’t seem the type. But if the news got out, his reputation would be ruined. Practically nothing would happen to you. How is that fair? Do you care so little for him that you don’t worry about his future and well-being?”
“God, Dec! I’m not that much of a rat bastard, am I? Of course, I’m worried about him. And if this came out, and he lost his job, I would be devastated for him. He’d probably also leave me, which is the last thing in the world I want. I have a plan. Where’s your faith?”
Our server swept over and snatched up our empty plates while inquiring whether we would like to see a dessert menu. Declan briskly ordered an espresso, and I asked for a coffee. The caffeine wouldn’t do much to make Declan livelier, and I probably didn’t need the caffeine after the scare my friend had given me. However, the meal didn’t seem complete without it.
When we were alone, I released a sigh. “I don’t want anything horrible to happen to Byron. He means a lot to me. Not just as an exceptional employee, but as a person—a person I want to get to know better.”
“You mean in bed.”
“I mean in all the parts of life. Yes, I want to screw his brains out, but I also want to hang out with him. I want to pamper the shit out of him.” I leaned forward, pinned him with a hard stare. “Haven’t you ever met someone you’ve wanted to spoil rotten? You want to hand the world to them on a silver platter. To give them anything their heart could desire. To make anything possible.”
“No.”
I flopped back in my chair with a huff. To tell the truth, neither had I. At least, I hadn’t until I’d met Byron. There had been someone when I started college that I dated who’d used me for my money, but that had been different. Thomas had constantly asked for things or taken for granted that I would just pay for everything. What was worse was that I hadn’t even seen it happening until it was too late. But even with all that, there’d been no grand urge to spoil him.
When I was with Byron, I wanted to spoil him. To give him things that would make him light up. Yet, he didn’t seem like a “things” person. He struck me as more of an “experiences” kind of person. Byron was the one who would want to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower at sunset to see the golden glow settling over the magical city. He’d want to wander through all the winding streets of Florence, marveling at the ancient city and seeing every piece of Renaissance art. He’d want to cuddle every panda we could find in Chengdu. And I wanted to make each of those things happen for him.