Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
I settle Luna into a chair and take the seat next to her. “So this is the second time we’ve run into each other. I think it’s appropriate for us to exchange names.” And phone numbers and any other vital information such as if you have a boyfriend because you’ll need to break up with him right away before I have to dispose of his body.
“It’s, ah, Luna. Luna Higginson.”
“Maddox Castile.” I take her chilled hand and rub it between mine. “And what is it that you do for a living, Ms. Luna?”
3
Luna
His warm hand takes the chill right from my bones that has settled in. I jumped from the car too quickly, having left my gloves and hat behind.
I open my mouth and close it. I’ve already told him too much. I keep doing everything that he wants me to. First I let him pull me down the sidewalk into a restaurant. Then I went and gave him my real name. Why didn't I make one up? Come up with something? Anything other than my real name. Oh, that’s right; because I am still riding a wave of shock.
He grabbed me. I didn’t see him coming and there he was right on top of me. Okay, maybe not on top of me and maybe he was saving me. Who am I kidding? I am making up reasons why this isn’t my fault. I’ve failed again. I don’t see a way out of this. I am so getting fired.
“Do you not want to tell me?” his thumb starts to rub back and forth on my hand, not helping me think. I swear he’s fighting a smile. Why does he have to be so handsome? Why am I thinking about him being handsome at a time like this? Get it together, Luna. MJ would lie straight to his gorgeous face and not care one bit. Be like MJ, that’s what I keep telling myself in my mind.
“I’m in between professions,” I half lie. That’s the best I can do under pressure. I can’t even lie right! I can’t seem to do anything right. The same woman from before returns with our drinks and a basket of bread. She seems like she knows Maddox. Her eyes go to our locked hands, widening at the sight. Why are they widening? Is it because he has a girlfriend everyone knows about? Would this count as cheating? I know if Maddox was mine I wouldn’t want him rubbing his thumb on another woman, even if it was just her hand.
She’d hopped up the second he walked in the door, willing to do just about anything for him. So it wasn’t only me. He has some sort of special powers that make people do things before thinking them through. I’m going to go ahead and guess it has something to do with his handsome face. One look at that sucker and you just do whatever he wants.
I pull my hands from his, hoping that will help me get it together. I wrap them around the warm cup of hot chocolate. The whipped cream on top looks as though a chef made it fresh. I need to put my hands on something so I don’t fidget them in my lap. It is a tick I’ve had for as long as I can remember. MJ told me it’s a tell of me being nervous or anxious.
“Hmm,” he responds as he swirls the whiskey in his glass but doesn’t take a drink of it. He probably thinks I’m a bum with no job now. He’s deep in thought over the answer I’ve given him. I keep my hands glued to that hot chocolate because with him staring at me the urge to drop my hands to my lap is almost overwhelming. I could have given him so many other answers but I chose the one that would lead to a ton of questions. What else was I supposed to say? I don’t think explaining to him that most days I live outside of his office is a suitable answer. He’d be the one running from me this time.
“I could use someone at my office,” he finally says, still not taking a sip of his whiskey.
“I-” I blank. I know nothing about real estate and developing it. It’s then I remember I shouldn’t know what he does for a living or anything else about him. My online course didn’t prepare me for this situation. There was never a mention of what to do if the person you’re investigating offers you a job. I’m pretty sure you’re never supposed to meet them. Probably why this wasn’t covered. I pick up my hot chocolate, taking a big drink to try and think what I should do.
“Pardon?” That’s the only thing I can think to say after I down half the drink, almost burning myself in the process of trying to stall. I’m so not good under pressure.