Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 84000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Sophia turns to me. “So, what’s your story, Worth? You the strong and silent type?”
I frown slightly. Is this my chance to impress the woman next to me? Or should I say something so she hates me and focuses on Fisher—the man her best friend thinks she’s best suited to? “I’m not sure what type I am,” I say, choosing neutrality over either strategy. “I think I should know all the options before I commit.”
“Oh,” she says. “A commitment-phobe, then,” she says.
She’d never think that if she knew the thoughts I’d been having about her since I laid eyes on her.
“So far we have Strong and Silent and Commitment-phobe,” I reply. “What are my other choices?” A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth and her cheeks pink.
“I’m being rude,” she says. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “Now I’m sorry if that’s how I made you feel. The last thing I’d want to do is make you feel like you’re being anything but… perfect.” The word steals my breath from my lungs and my attention circles the word. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. “I was trying to draw this conversation out for as long as possible. I thought if I didn’t answer your question right away, you’d talk to me a little longer.”
Her smile blooms and she lifts her chin slightly. “That’s a nice thing to say.”
I nod. “It’s the truth.”
“Worth always tells the truth,” Leo says from across the table. The seemingly intimate conversation we were having disintegrates.
“Always?” Sophia narrows her eyes in challenge.
“No,” I confess.
“You do,” Leo protests, his tone a little sharp.
“No one can ever tell the truth all the time. It’s impossible.” I glance over at Leo, but his attention is now refocused on Fisher and Jules. They’re laughing at something, but all I care about is that I have Sophia’s attention.
“What’s the last lie you told?” she asks me.
I pull in a breath and sit back in my chair. “Someone who works for me handed in a report and I told them they did a great job.”
“And they hadn’t?” Sophia asks.
“No. It was a just-okay job. But it was their first time doing this type of work and I didn’t want them to be discouraged, so I lied.”
“You exaggerated,” she says.
Our voices have lowered, and Sophia has sat back in her chair too. We’ve slightly separated ourselves from the rest of the table, so only she and I can hear what each other is saying.
“What about you?” I ask. “What’s the last lie you told?”
That you thought Fisher was attractive when Jules brought up his picture from his Instagram? I mentally suggest. Not that I know that Jules brought up his picture from his Instagram. But Jules has clearly been laying the foundations for a connection between Fisher and Sophia.
“I told my mom I was looking forward to going back to Cincinnati next weekend.”
I want to know more. I want to know everything. Where did she go to college, when did she move to New York, what she does for a living, what kind of movies she likes?
Breathe, Worth. Chill the fuck out.
“You don’t like going back?” I ask.
She pauses to think about this for a second. “I do, I just don’t want to go next weekend.”
“But you have to?”
She shakes her head. “No, but my mom asked me to come back, which she never does.”
I nod. I understand the feeling of obligation that comes with family, but also, I wonder if she thinks her mom is going to give her bad news. Maybe I have a tendency to assume the worst, but I can only think that if her mom’s asking her to go back home, there’s a reason—and it’s unlikely to be celebrating a fresh coat of paint on their picket fence. But if she hasn’t figured that out, I don’t want to bring it up. The last thing I want to do is create anxiety when there’s no solution but time.
“What do you do?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“I work for Saks,” she says. “In their finance department. It’s boring as hell, but I get a good discount.”
I laugh and catch her watching me the way I watched her when she blushed—like she’s fascinated by me.
Is it wishful thinking on my part?
I glance at Fisher. He doesn’t seem to notice that Sophia and I are talking. Frankly, if he was into her, she wouldn’t have had an opportunity to ask me to pass the butter. Fisher is super charming when he’s interested in a woman, and far from subtle.
“What about you? How do you spend your days?” she asks.
“I invest in startups and small businesses.”
“You’re a hero investor?” she asks, her voice lifting. Her chin juts slightly, emphasizing her full lips.
She’s insanely lovely.
“I’m not sure I’ve been called a hero before.”
Her eyebrows pulse up, and I want to cup her neck and press my lips to her forehead. What the hell is the matter with me? “Angel,” she says on a laugh. “I meant angel investor.”