Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
I’m about to leave when the fax machine on his desk kicks on. It might be something important so I go over and wait for the machine to spit out the paper. I see a copy of my driver’s license and think that the fax is from the HR office until the document finishes printing and I see the letterhead and handwritten note.
This is from the airline. The note reads, “I think this is the girl you’re looking for.” I hold the paper in my hand and stare at it for a long time. Is it possible that Bryan was searching for me? Why would he do that? I’m nobody. I just can’t make sense of it, and I’m not sure how I should feel.
What reason could he have to justify invading my privacy like this? What little experience I have with men tells me they don’t normally go to these lengths to locate someone they barely know. The men in my life have never cared enough to call me back when they realized they weren’t going to get in my pants. I don’t know if I should be flattered or frightened. How could I?
Hours pass and I sit at my desk taking phone messages and reading emails. I take turns watching the clock and the elevator. I don’t know what time I’m supposed to punch out or if Bryan is even coming back to take me to dinner. He left in such a huff that I wouldn’t be surprised if he changed his mind about going out. The suspense is just too much for me. As intimidating as he can be, I need to know what this is. At this point, I just hope I can summon the courage to ask.
The elevator doors open at just past six and Bryan steps out wearing a crisp, gray shirt and black slacks.
“Did you go home to change clothes?” I ask him.
“No. I was downstairs working out. I have a locker down there with fresh clothes in it.”
“I didn’t know we had a gym. Do I get to use it too?”
“Yes, and the pool. It’s part of the package. Now, about dinner.”
He’s going to tell me he’s changed his mind. I can feel it.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I understand.”
He smiles at me. ”I wouldn’t miss it for anything. Get your things.”
We take the elevator down to the parking garage and he asks, “Did you drive here today?”
“No. I don’t have a car currently so I took the bus. My roommate was willing to drive me, but I don’t want to be a burden to her.”
“This is me over here,” he says, pointing to the little red Porsche coup. It’s parked in the spot reserved for the President and CEO so it wouldn’t have been hard for me to figure out.
He opens the door for me, helps me inside, and moves to the driver’s side. The smell of new leather assaults my senses.
“This is such a nice car. Do you like it?”
“It’s a bit small for me. I like to stretch out my legs, you know?”
“Maybe you’ll get used to it.”
“I have a feeling I won’t be driving it long.”
I can’t imagine being able to just discard a brand new, expensive car like that, but it’s clear now he has the means to do whatever he wants. Still, I like the car and I’m glad I have a chance to ride in it.
The restaurant, Karma, is in the center of the city. It’s my first time seeing it, and it kind of overwhelms me. All the lights and noises are something I’ve never seen before, and it takes my breath away.
Bryan pulls up to the curb and a boy in a red suit rushes over to open my door for me. Bryan comes around the car and tosses him the keys. He practically skips around the car and hops inside. Looks like he’s just as excited as I was to be in this car.
Bryan takes my arm and leads me through the smoked glass doors of the restaurant. Its crisp, modern design and marble floors remind me of something from a magazine on fine dining. The hostess sees us and rushes to seat us.
“It’s good to see you, Mr. Branigan. It’s been a long time,” she tells him.
Bryan pulls out my chair for me and I sit down. From here, I have a clear view of the dining room. I swear I recognize half of the diners from the movies, but I’m too starstruck to put names to the faces.
“Do you mind if I order for us?” Bryan asks and I’m grateful for the offer. I have no idea where to start.
“That would be nice. Thank you.”
“Is there anything you don’t eat?”
“No, I’m not picky. I eat anything.”
For some reason, he stares at me long and hard and smirks.