Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Thanks, sir.” I can’t hold back my smile, giving him a full-on grin, and the corner of his mouth twitches up. Got ’em.
I head outside the hotel onto the green-carpeted entrance. In front of me, a sophisticated woman climbs into the backseat of a shiny black town car and is whisked away. Cabs fly by with their honking horns. Even at this early hour, the city’s energy is organized chaos.
Caffeine is my first priority, and according to the app on my phone, there’s a Starbucks five hundred and thirty feet away. I love how the city measures distances to life’s conveniences in feet versus miles. I won’t even need a car to get around here.
I follow the little blue dot moving on my screen, making sure I’m heading in the right direction. When I pass by a mirrored storefront, I catch a full-length view of my reflection. My pink pencil skirt and white blouse combination may not be as tailored as the woman with Barclay Hammond last night, but it’s not too far off. Thankfully, Maggie made me buy a few essential pieces for my job search, but I wouldn’t budge on buying black. It may be the standard here in New York City, but it’s also the color people wear to funerals back home.
The green goddess sign of caffeine appears ahead of me, and I pick up my pace. Once inside, I find the line ten people deep. The baristas are all business behind the counter, so the line moves quickly. Most of the customers exit the store, which leaves plenty of empty tables. Since I don’t have a job to run off to yet, I find a seat by the window and text Maggie.
Call me if you’re up.
Up.
I have to tell you about last night.
You met someone?
Maybe.
OMG. Calling.
“Hello,” I answer after one ring.
“Who is he?” Maggie rushes out, and I can hear her coffee maker brewing in the background.
“Good morning to you, too. By the way, where were you last night?” I ask, because I called and texted her several times without a reply.
“On a date.” She sighs. “I don’t think he asked me a single question the entire night. I give up on finding a decent guy our age. They’re consumed with making it big. All he talked about was making partner and buying a sports car.”
“Tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”
“Nah. Just an oral exchange. It was a Tinder date.”
“Maggie,” I whisper-scream into the phone. “What were you thinking?”
“That all his talking gave him a wonderfully strong tongue.”
“I can’t believe you.” We are such polar opposites in the sex and dating department. She’s liberated and free thinking, whereas I’ve been stuck somewhere between second and third base since my senior year of high school.
“Hopefully you will understand what I’m talking about soon. Tell me about last night.”
I recap the entire evening at the restaurant with Barclay Hammond. How he wouldn’t stop staring at me, bought my dinner and drinks, then left with another woman. I leave out his connection to Hammond Press, and that I stalked him, for at least an hour, online after dinner.
The society pages mentioned he had broken up with a longtime girlfriend a couple months ago and he was one of New York City’s most eligible bachelors. Oh boy, did he seem overly eligible last night.
“Damn, girl. What would you have done if he came to your table and his date never appeared?”
“I don’t know. He was way too old for me.”
“Like how old?”
“Maybe thirty-five or a bit older?” My voice trails off at the last part.
“Wow.” She sounds as shocked as me. “That’s the exact type of man you need for your first time. Someone with experience, who knows how to make love to a woman. If you think those stares were too much, imagine what he could do in the bedroom.”
“You have such daddy issues,” I tease, but it’s true. She would always point out the hot older man in the bars we snuck into in college.
“Remember that date I had with the silver fox?” Her dreamy voice floats away on a sex cloud.
“How could I forget?” My tone doesn’t hide the irritation I still feel about listening to her brag. I tried to be happy for her, but I’ve never even had one orgasm with a man, let alone the scores she claimed occurred with a seasoned lover.
“Take it from me, Tessa. Older is better. They’ve learned their way around the equipment.”
A shiver runs over my skin as I remember Barclay’s eyes and how they bored into me. They had the look of knowing things about me even I wasn’t aware of.
I imagine his full lips on mine, our tongues mingling while his long fingers touch me in places and ways I’ve longed to feel from a man.
“Earth to Tessa,” Maggie nearly shouts.