Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
His face wasn’t giving anything away. “You only meant to make me pay your parking ticket, not break my wiper.”
“That’s right.”
He smirked. “Now it all makes sense.”
Bennett had a water bottle in his hand. He brought it to his lips and took a long gulp, his eyes never leaving me. When he was done, he nodded.
“Apology accepted.”
“Really?”
“We have to work together. Might as well keep it professional.”
I was relieved. “Thank you.”
“I shower at the gym downstairs after my morning run. Give me about twenty minutes, and we can get started going over our accounts.”
“Okay. Great. See you in a bit.”
Maybe I’d underestimated Bennett. Just because he was good looking, I had assumed he would be an egomaniac, and I’d never live down my moment of insanity. When I reached my supply closet office, I jiggled the key in the lock. It was stuck, but eventually it clanked and the door opened. The smell of cleaning supplies immediately permeated my nose. At least I understood why he’d stuck me in here now. Sighing, I flicked on the light and was surprised to find someone had left a bag on my desk.
Assuming it was probably the janitor, I picked it up to move it to where the other chemicals were piled and spotted a handwritten note on top.
You’ll be needing this. —Bennett
A gift for me?
Setting my laptop and purse down, I dug inside the bag. It was light—definitely not cleaning chemicals—and the contents were wrapped in tissue paper.
Curious, I unwrapped it.
A cowboy hat?
What?
You’ll be needing this.
Hmm…
You’ll be needing this.
As in, for my job.
In Texas.
Maybe Bennett wasn’t that mature after all.
Chapter 4
* * *
Bennett
Tomorrow maybe I should leave some lingerie.
Right on time, Annalise strutted into my office carrying a large cardboard box. She had on the cowboy hat I’d left her to be a dick. Only now that she was wearing it, I was thinking with my dick.
She looked sexy as hell with her wild blonde hair sticking out all over. I bet she’d look hot as shit in a black lace corset and some spiky heels to go with that cowboy hat. I shook my head to knock that visual from my imagination. But my mind wasn’t having it. It was busy thinking of a million ways I’d like to see her wear it.
Riding me.
Reverse cowgirl.
Yeah, not smart, Fox.
I looked away for a minute before clearing my throat and walking over to take the box from her hands. “Looks good on you. You’re going to fit right in at the new office in a few months.”
“At least maybe I’ll have a place to work down there that won’t get me high from sniffing chemicals all day.”
“I was just screwing with you. Your real office is being set up for you as we speak.”
“Oh. Wow. Thanks.”
“No problem. I’m sure the cake in the urinals makes the new office smell a lot better.”
“I’m not—”
I raised a hand and cut her off. “Joking. The office is the same layout as mine, two doors over. I know you’d like to be closer to me, but that’s the best I could drum up.”
“Are you always this obnoxious so early in the morning?” She held up a tall coffee mug with a pink sparkly A on it. “Because I’m just starting my second cup, and if that’s the case, I’m going to need to caffeinate more before I get here.”
I chuckled. “Yep, get used to it. I’ve been told mornings are my least obnoxious time, so you might want to fill that big mug with something stronger after lunch.”
She rolled her eyes.
Marina, my assistant—our assistant—walked in and dropped an envelope on my desk. She offered Annalise a smile and said good morning, while pretending I wasn’t in the room.
I shook my head when she walked out. “By the way, I feel compelled to warn you: don’t accidentally eat your new assistant’s lunch.”
Annalise seemed to think I was kidding. “Okay.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I walked over to the round table in the corner where I normally held small meetings and set her box down. Noticing the label, I said, “Bianchi Winery? I thought we were going over all of our accounts to even out the workload and reassign clients between our teams?”
“We are. But I figured it couldn’t hurt to show each other our presentations for tomorrow. Maybe we can agree on which is the best one, and we won’t have to go up against each other?”
I smirked. “Afraid you’re gonna lose, huh?”
She sighed. “Forget it. Let’s just go over the accounts like Jonas asked.”
God, she’s touchy. “Alright. Why don’t we work here? There’s more room to spread out.”
She nodded and pulled out an accordion file folder from her box. As she unfastened the elastic band that kept it neatly compressed, the file expanded, displaying a few dozen compartmentalized, individual slots. Each slot had a color-coded label with something typed on it.