Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“‘Just jeans my ass. You look hot. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair down or wearing makeup. I’m totally digging the whole vibe you’ve got going on.”
“Thanks.” I can’t help my smile. She’s not the first person who’s complimented me over the last few days, which seems a little odd, since I didn’t do anything to my appearance but change how I was dressing. Then again, it might not be about my clothing. Since Jamie gave me the jacket I’m wearing, I’ve felt like I got a little of my power back.
“Anyway, I was going to ask Jamie for your number, but since you’re here, I’ll just talk to you in person,” she says, getting a look in her eyes that puts me on guard. “Don’t freak out yet.” She takes a hold of my wrist and starts pulling me across the empty dance floor toward the bar. Once we reach it, she plants me on a stool then walks around to the back of the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the top shelf then a salt shaker and a couple slices of lime.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I ask as she places a glass before me and pours out a shot.
“Not drunk but pliable.” She grins.
“This should be good,” I mutter, picking up the shot and shooting it back before shaking my head at the salt she holds out. But I do take a piece of lime and bite into it.
“Now.” She pours me another shot, and I raise a brow, wondering exactly what it is she has to tell me. I pray it has nothing to do with Jamie. She motions for me to take the second shot, so I shoot it back. “I have a friend I want you to meet.”
“No.” I cough, motioning for her to hand me the second piece of lime she’s holding.
“Hear me out.”
“Maggie.” I sigh, dropping my forehead to my hands resting on the top of the bar.
“He’s a good guy.”
“They’re all good guys until they aren’t anymore.”
“You have a point,” she says, and I lift my head to look at her. “I’m not saying you have to date him, but I want you to meet him. Please.” She holds her hands in front of her in a prayer position.
“Okay.” I sigh.
“Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
She rubs her hands together, looking far too happy with herself. “This is going to be great. I promise—he’s nice, and perfect for you.”
“I’ll meet him for coffee.”
“Dinner.”
“Coffee.” I hold firm. There is no way I want to sit through an hour-long dinner with someone I don’t know and don’t like.
“Fine, coffee.” She rolls her eyes. “But when you marry him, I expect to be your maid of honor.”
I snort, knowing that’s not going to happen. “Fine.”
“I’m telling you now; you’re going to thank me. You two are perfect for each other.”
I doubt that, but still I say, “Tell me about him.”
For the next thirty minutes, I listen to her drone on and on about Adam, but if I’m honest, I don’t remember half of what she tells me due to the shots of tequila she continues to feed me throughout our conversation.
Chapter 2
Dakota
MY FOOT BOUNCES as the cab I’m in fights traffic to get me across town, where I’m meeting my blind date for coffee. After my first week of work, the last thing I want to do is go out, but Maggie called me this morning to confirm I still planned on showing up, and I couldn’t tell her no.
“It’s just coffee.”
“What?” the driver asks, and I shake my head.
“Sorry, just talking to myself.” I glance at my phone. Being late, hungry, and exhausted is making me feel more anxious than I would normally be. My first week at IMG was great, but with so much to learn and do, it’s taken a toll on my sleep. Then there’s getting used to living on my own again. I love having my own space and a bed to sleep in, but I miss having someone around to chat with at the end of the day.
“Fuck.” The driver hits the brakes, making me slide forward in my seat, and I place my hand on the glass in front of me to keep from banging my head into it. I sit back in my seat and look through the windshield, noticing two cars have gotten into an accident blocking both lanes. He rolls down his window and sticks his head outside, motioning with his hand. “Stupid idiots, get out of the road.”
“Fuck you. Go around!” a large man who looks like he eats small children yells back with a not so nice hand gesture.
“I can’t go around. No one can go around!” my driver shouts, pissing the big guy off, and he starts toward the cab I’m in with a vein in his head visibly throbbing.