Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 40867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
She laughed, and I was caught off guard by how it made me feel. What in the hell was that pressure in my chest?
“No, I’m not leaving work early to go drink. I’m going to a bar I found that serves Jameson Rum. I want to ask the manager why he picked Jameson over Bacardi.”
I smiled. “I like it. Hands-on research.”
Her eyes moved to where my dick was straining against my trousers. The fucker started to get hard the longer she stared at it. Tilting her head, she shrugged, then met my stare with those sparkling hazel eyes of hers.
“Maybe ‘little man’ was a tad unfair.”
Ashley suddenly appeared behind Saylor. “Mr. Quinn, Mr. Locke’s secretary called. They had to push the meeting from today to Monday morning.”
I felt the corners of my mouth rise. “Perfect. Ashley, I’ll be out of the office this afternoon. Ms. Night and I are heading out to a meeting.”
Saylor’s eyes widened in horror. Either she was lying about where she was really going, or the thought of me coming with her scared the piss out of her. Especially with how she was talking about my dick. Damn, I couldn’t wait to find out which one it was.
“Yes, sir,” Ashley said before she excused herself and slipped away to who knows where.
I cocked my head and looked at Saylor. “Do you have a problem with me coming along with you, Ms. Night?”
Fuck. A naughty scene flashed through my mind. Saylor on top of me, her hands cupping her breasts as we both found release.
She recovered quickly. Plastering on a fake smile, she replied, “Not at all, Mr. Quinn. But just to let you know, I’m not ever going to let you into my pants. Are we clear on that?”
I laughed. “What in the world makes you think I want in your pants?”
The same hurt that I’d seen that day she’d spilled the tea on me—when I’d made the same jackass comment—moved across her face again.
I wanted to punch myself for insulting her once more.
She pressed her lips together then said, “Right, I’m sorry for that. It was unprofessional of me. I’ll text you the name and address and meet you there at one.”
“You don’t want to go together?” I asked before I could stop the words from leaving my mouth.
When she didn’t respond, I nodded. “I’ll meet you there at one.”
Saylor turned and walked out of my office. I couldn’t shake the sick feeling I had in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t sure what had me more worried. That Saylor actually thought I’d been fucking Charisa and Laura, or the fact that she didn’t want to be around me. Neither idea sat well with me.
My cell phone buzzed, and I headed back over to my desk. It was from an unknown number. Opening it, I read the message.
Unknown: The bar is called Pete’s. It’s on Lexington Ave.
I quickly programmed Saylor’s cell into my phone.
Me: I’ve been there a lot. I live near there.
Saylor: You do? So do I.
Smiling, I decided to ask her where she lived at the bar later. I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t text again. That was one thing I’d figured out about Saylor: She wasn’t a chaser. Not like Charisa. Leaning back in my chair, I started to wonder how many guys Saylor had been with. Was she a very experienced lover, or was she the type of woman who’d only recently broken up with her college boyfriend because he hadn’t popped the question yet?
My curiosity got the better of me. I had a shit ton of work to do, but I was too distracted by the beautiful blonde who was in the office next door to me. This was all new to me. No woman had ever had me so damn unfocused or curious to know more about them.
Pulling up Google, I typed in Saylor’s name along with the words Seattle, Washington.
A line of pictures showed up, so I clicked on the images. Saylor had been in the same position at Smith and Smith that I currently held at Maxwell and Locke, so I wasn’t surprised to see pictures of her dressed up at galas. But when I saw the same guy on her arm in multiple photos, I felt my anger beginning to build.
Who is this fucker?
I clicked on one of the pictures and it led me to an article.
Seattle Times Honors Local Smith and Smith Employee for Volunteer Work
Saylor Night was honored for her work with a local charity in the Seattle, Washington, area that builds homes for wounded veterans. Accompanying her to the event was long-time boyfriend, Ron Johnson.
I closed out the window and went back to Google to type in Ron Johnson, Seattle, Washington.
Local musician arrested for breaking restraining order put out by former girlfriend and senior marketing manager at Smith and Smith Marketing.