Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
In the hour we chatted and flirted, I learned that he came from a big Irish family and eventually wanted to be the police chief. I really appreciated that he had high aspirations but a very humble background, like me.
His upbringing wasn’t as sordid or tragic as mine, but a man like him would appreciate the work that I had put into my career without looking down on me because of how I started.
Finding a new crush, which I was still confident was the advice Sabrina would give me, was exactly what I needed.
No, the detective didn’t make my heart race every time I looked at him, and I probably wouldn’t be distracted from my work by intrusive thoughts about what his cock tasted like or how it would feel when he thrust deep inside of me. But wasn’t that a good thing? I was here to work, not to have inappropriate daydreams.
Being with someone like him would make it far easier for me to separate my work from my personal life. He may even be enough of a reason for me to have a personal life.
“Let me take you out on Friday,” he said as he clasped my hand in his. “I know this great little pub. When you’re done with work, I can pick you up. We’ll have a couple of drinks, get some fish and chips, and just see where the night takes us.”
Patrick’s offer was tempting, but there was no way for me to know what my hours would be like on Friday. And considering the tense relationship between Harrison and me currently, I didn’t really feel comfortable asking to leave at a reasonable hour on a Friday night.
I was about to tell him no when Harrison stopped in front of the break room and barked at me to get my ass back to my desk.
His jaw was clenched as he stared daggers at the detective.
I had no idea why he was so upset with me, but I wasn’t in a position to ask. Perhaps his mother or his fiancée had said something about me not meeting their expectations for his secretary.
Since Cynthia was out, had he expected me to fill her role, even though it was outside my responsibilities as his paralegal? I knew Mrs. Lakeson had asked me to but I didn’t think that meant fetching coffee for his obnoxious fiancée.
Shooting the detective an apologetic glance, I rushed over to my desk.
I had just unlocked the drawer to grab the files when Mr. Astrid demanded that I come into his office.
“Close the door and lock it,” he said as I walked in.
He didn’t bother looking up from the stack of papers he was setting aside on his desk.
I did as he demanded and turned to face him.
He still didn’t look at me.
“Is there something you need?” I asked.
“Yes, Ms. Carmichael. I need to know why you feel it’s appropriate to flirt at the workplace.”
Ms. Carmichael, is it?
Fine, Mr. Astrid.
I bristled at his accusation.
How dare he say things like that to me as if he wasn’t the one who had accosted me in the bathroom? Yeah, I was in there when I wasn’t supposed to be, but he’d been just as unprofessional, if not more so, by kissing and licking my body and putting his hands on me.
“Sir, I was on my lunch break. That is personal time, not professional.”
“That still does not mean that it is okay for you to flirt with a detective while in this office.”
“With all due respect, sir, who I flirt with and when, so long as I am not on the clock, is absolutely none of your business.”
Finally he looked up at me, and the anger behind his brilliant blue eyes made my heart race. I took an involuntary step back toward the door.
“It is my fucking business if you choose to act like a cat in heat in the middle of my office. How did you meet Detective Doyle? Did he approach you at your desk?”
“It’s none of your business how I met him.”
He rose from his desk and walked around it, staring me down. “Would you like to run that by me again, Ms. Carmichael?”
My breath came in short pants as he stalked toward me.
I braced myself against the solid wood door behind me.
“No,” I said, pressing my palms flat against the cool surface of the door. “I stand by what I said.”
Mr. Astrid stood in front of me and flattened his hands on the door on either side of my head, boxing me in.
There was no place for me to escape.
“I’m already extremely annoyed. You don’t want to know what happens if I reach pissed off. Now I’m going to ask you one more time. Did Detective Doyle approach you at your desk?”
I would rather be stripped naked and dragged through the streets of Manhattan over shards of broken glass than tell him I matched with Patrick on Tinder.