Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 83171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
She blushes along her cheeks and neck. Damn. It’s like she lit a match inside me. Still, I’ve embarrassed her. Should I apologize?
No way. I’m not even slightly sorry.
She draws in a deep breath and clears her throat. “What can I help you with?”
“I’m Braden Black. I’m here to see Addison.”
“She’s in her office. Did you have an appointment?”
“No. She’s an old friend.”
“Of course. I’ll tell her you’re here.”
“No need.” After what Addison pulled on my receptionist today, I’m not feeling the least bit accommodating. I cock my head toward the closed door. “She in there?”
The assistant nods. “Yeah.”
I walk toward Addison’s private office, discreetly adjusting my burgeoning erection.
“You can’t,” she says.
“Sure I can. Watch me.” I approach the closed door.
Before I knock, however, the door opens.
“Skye, can you—” Addison’s lips curve downward into an angry frown. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Addison Ames was always a spitfire, always determined to get what she wants, no matter the cost. A spoiled brat, this one. But she won’t get away with treating my employees badly. I’m sure she feels I deserve her wrath, but my people decidedly do not. My past with Addie no longer angers me, but the present? She won’t get away with bullying anyone around me.
“Thought I’d come over to tell you if you ever bully my receptionist again, I’ll make sure every one of your followers knows the truth about you.”
“Truth about me? Are you kidding? I’m not the one with something to hide, Braden.”
“You have a lot more to hide than a hatred of coffee,” I say.
“And what about you? You want your business associates to know—”
“Enough!”
My voice booms through the office as rage swirls through me like a tornado. She wants to threaten me? Bring it on. She’ll go down in the dust.
Fortunately, my command seems to stop her.
I can’t help looking over my shoulder at her assistant, who’s stopped what she’s doing as well.
Addison says simply, “Stay off my Instagram.”
“I’m not sure you should be telling me what to do,” I say, forcing my voice to stay calm, “but I’ll play it your way for now.”
“Good.” Addison stomps back into her office and slams the door.
I stand still for a moment and stare at her closed door, running my fingers through my hair. Then I turn and face her assistant. Her brown eyes are the color of my favorite bourbon, Wild Turkey, and right now, they’re wide with surprise.
“She hasn’t changed,” I say.
“You mean she’s slammed a door in your face before?”
I keep myself from smiling. She’s…something. Challenging, in her way. “Many people have.”
She smiles, her whole face lighting up like something out of a song. “I suppose it’s better than someone being nice to your face and then stabbing you in the back.”
“I get my share of that, too,” I say. “And I agree. It’s always better to know where you stand.”
I stare at her then. Really stare, taking in everything about her. Those lips, those bourbon eyes. The embarrassed blush on her cheeks and neck.
Her rack.
Yeah, the woman has an amazing rack. Even bound up in the work clothes she wears, it’s impossible to miss.
She looks down for a few seconds and then looks back up and meets my gaze. “I guess you know where you stand with Addie,” she says.
“Pretty much everyone does.”
I allow my lips to bend ever so slightly upward. I suppress a shiver.
“I couldn’t help myself,” I say. “She hates coffee.”
She smiles. “I know. She threw out the latte after the shoot. Perfectly good and hot. I’d have happily drunk it.”
“You’re a coffee drinker, then?”
She nods. “Absolutely.”
“Me too.” I stare at her again, unable to shift my gaze from that appealing mouth. “Care to go for a cup…”
Her eyes widen.
I glance toward her desk where her nameplate sits. I remember then, from the phone recording Cindy sent me. Skye Manning.
“…Skye?”
“It’s almost six.”
I don’t miss a beat. “Dinner, then?”
She looks down at her wrinkled silk blouse and skinny jeans. Her gorgeous brown hair is falling out of its ponytail. Again, I imagine it unbound and free, gloriously curtained over her shoulders and back.
She eyes Addison’s closed door.
“You don’t need her permission,” I say.
“I wasn’t—”
“Sure you were. Your boss doesn’t particularly like me, so you were wondering if going to dinner with me would somehow cost you your job.”
She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.
“Are you good at your job, Skye?”
Skye. I love the way her name sounds as it rolls off my tongue—like a caress.
Her cheeks redden. Again. It’s off-brand for me to push a woman who’s not interested, but this one is interested. She’s just not admitting it.
More importantly, I’m interested. Really interested.
She licks her lips. “Well, I—”
“Let’s attack this from a different angle. How long have you been working for Addison?”
“Almost a year.”
“Then clearly you’re good at your job, or she would have gotten rid of you long ago. Addison might be a pain in the ass, but she’s smart. She won’t let a good thing go.” One corner of my mouth twitches slightly. Man, I want to smile. This woman really makes me want to smile. I’ve perfected my poker face over the years, to the point where I use it not only in professional situations but also personal ones.