Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“Should I… come over for a visit?” I’m about to finish up anyway. And I can’t think of anywhere else I want to be.
“Fuck yes! Yes. Meet me in twenty?”
“I’ll bring dessert this time.”
He whistles loudly as I hang up my cell, reaching for the chocolate I brought earlier this week. I place it in my bag spraying myself with some perfume and quickly changing my panties to fresh ones before I leave.
“You’re leaving?” Tracey comes to my door, her short blonde hair wisps over her face as she stands there with a bottle of wine in her hand.
“I was…” I point to the door. “What’s that for?” I ask indicating at the bottle.
She smiles. “Well, I figured you could use it, and to celebrate closing the best fashion campaign of this century.”
I did, and I worked extremely fucking hard to have them to choose our magazine. I look at my cell then back to Tracey, knowing I won’t be seeing him now. My heart skips a beat of disappointment at that thought.
“That would be great. Should we start here or somewhere else?”
She pops open the bottle, walking in with two glasses in her hand. “Here. Then let’s go and eat tacos, then drink some more.”
I smile. “I like the sound of that.”
We polish the bottle off, and Echo rings several times. I end up sending him a text message telling him we have to reschedule, and he sends a sad face emoji. I swear, I’ve never met a man who sends more emoji than him.
“So, are you single?” Tracey asks as we reach the taco place.
“Yes, are you?”
“No, but my girlfriend is away right now, so I’m lonely as fuck.” I wasn’t aware she had one, so it comes as a surprise. “You aren’t really single, are you?” My cell beeps, I look down to see his name flashing. “I heard about the god who came into your office, I think everyone’s still talking about him.” She laughs.
“He… well, he’s just…” I don’t know what to say to that, so I stumble over my words.
“A booty call?” she asks finishing my sentence.
“Kind of. Well, yes, I guess he is.”
“If I didn’t bat for the other team I may ask for more information. But you’re lucky I do.” My cell starts ringing, I look at it and notice his name. “Answer it, it’s fine.” I do so because I want to know what he wants.
“If I ask you something, I don’t want it to change what we have.”
“Okay.”
“What color panties are you wearing?” I laugh then pull the cell away and hang up.
“You’re glowing, you sure you don’t have something more going on with him?”
I shake my head. “No. We agreed, just sex. No feelings involved.”
“I doubt that very much.”
“So, where should we go drinking?” I ask finishing up my taco.
She leans in and whispers to me, “I have this one place I know of, it’s very secretive. Can you keep a secret?” I nod my head unsure of what she means. “It’s not far from here, but you must keep it a secret.”
“I promise.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
“Are you sure we’re at the right place? I mean you aren’t here to off me or something, are you?” She giggles at my nervousness, but I’m damn serious. I don’t want to die.
“Don’t be silly. If I wanted to kill you, I would have drugged your drink and taken you to the nearest water, put you on a boat and thrown you off. Let the sharks have you.”
Jesus! She’s thought it out—how to kill someone. I’m stunned at her words, but I look around anyway.
“Leave your bag in the car, trust me you won’t need it. Oh, and maybe lose the coat.”
I do as she says basically because I’m afraid she might actually knock me off. To be honest, I’m still reeling from her previous words, so I say, “You’ve given a lot of thought to killing people.”
She laughs. “Wait till you meet my brother then you’ll understand why.” She grips my hand and pulls me through a door. Red curtains assault my sight as I push them aside. What I see at first doesn’t fully register. It can’t. How is this even possible?
Tracey lets go of my hand and I can feel her staring, but I can’t think to look at her as I frantically look everywhere. So much is going on that my brain’s having trouble processing it all. Girls are flying around suspended from the ceiling on Lycra. Dancers are on stage in barely anything but some small pieces of skimpy material showing all their assets as they dance with a full face of make-up as a clown.
“What is this place?”
She laughs then pulls me to the stage. I look up amazed as one of the girls lowers herself from the Lycra in front of me, smiles, then winds herself back up.