Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
“You owe another hundred,” I shoot back. “I know someone who will have all of that cleaned up by noon. I’ll arrange for it to happen.”
“I trust you, so give them a call and get them here as soon as possible.”
I slide open my bottom drawer to reach for my phone. “I’ll take care of it now.”
“I’m going home.” He starts back toward his office. “I need to find my shoes.”
My gaze wanders to his ass again as he walks away.
Suddenly, he looks back to catch me watching him. “Jamie wouldn’t have stepped up to the plate to help me out the way you are, Maren.”
All I’m doing is arranging for the cleaning crew who took care of my dad’s offices to come down here to de-glitter this place.
“It’s my job,” I sound back.
“You’re doing a he…heck of a good job so far.”
I take pride in that even though it’s only my second day, and every task I’ve been assigned so far has been easy.
I watch as he slides his feet into his black wingtip shoes. As he stalks back toward me, his gaze falls to his hand. “What the…?”
His voice trails as he glances at whatever is written on his palm in black ink.
“Is there a problem?” I probe because I want to know what the secret message is.
He turns his hand to face me. I silently read the ten digits of what I assume is a phone number.
“A woman at the club asked for Pace’s autograph on her…well, she wanted him to sign her,” he stumbles his way through that while circling a finger in front of his chest. “She yanked a marker out of her purse, and then Pace handed it to her friend when he was finished with it.”
I nod, realizing what he’s about to say.
“The friend grabbed my hand and scribbled something down.” Shaking his head, he scrubs at the numbers with his finger. “She told me to use it. I didn’t realize until I went to wash my hands that it was her number, and the ink is fucking permanent.”
I suck in a breath. “You swore.”
“I swore off calling random women who write their phone numbers on my body.”
“What?” I ask before I realize the question has left my lips.
“You don’t want to know.” He chuckles. “I’ll get this off at home. Rubbing alcohol will erase it in a flash.”
My mouth continues spitting out things I shouldn’t say to my boss. “You should save the number to your phone before you do that.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Why? I have no intention of using the number.”
I tilt my chin up. “You don’t.”
He takes in the green dress I’m wearing before his gaze settles on my face. “No. I don’t.”
Since I’m the one who led us into awkward territory, I guide us out. “I’ll call the cleaners.”
His eyes lock on mine. “I appreciate you helping me with this.”
I nod. “If there’s anything else I can do for you today, please let me know.”
“Have dinner with me.”
I open my mouth to refuse, but I don’t get a word in.
“I set up a meeting with Fletcher Newman tonight,” he goes on. “He’s a potential new client. I want you to be there.”
It’s a work dinner.
Regardless of what I feel, I can’t refuse to show up. “Let me know when and where, and I’ll be there.”
“I’ll text you the details as soon as I’m cleaned up.” He motions toward the elevator. “I’m going to get the heck out of here before anyone else shows up.”
I glance at the watch on my wrist. He needs to hurry. My colleagues will be arriving at any minute.
“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” he calls over his shoulder as he sprints to the elevator. “If anyone needs me, tell them to sit tight. And if Pace calls, hang up on him.”
I let out a laugh. “I’ll talk to him.”
After jabbing a finger into the elevator call button, he turns to face me. “He’s bad news. You’re too good for him, Maren.”
Before I can ask what he means by that, the elevator doors slide open, and Everett appears.
“Is that glitter on your face, boss?” he asks with amusement in his tone.
Keats moves around him to board the elevator just as Everett steps off. “What do you think?”
With that, the doors slide shut, and Everett turns to face me. “Do I want to know what the hell that’s about? Or do I file it under Keats being Keats?”
I laugh. “Is Keats covered in glitter a regular thing?”
“That part is new.” He laughs. “So is that extra bounce in his step. You must have something to do with that, Maren.”
Office gossip is the last thing I need, so I shut it down with a shake of my head. “I’m only here to clean up the messes.”