Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Nine
Gabe
Why the fuck is she going out with Dave on Friday? It’s ridiculous. What is he giving her that I’m not? She can’t be fucking him. I mean she could—we haven’t even quantified what is happening between us, so it’s possible. It’s just not likely. All the blushing when I touch her. The lack of condoms at her apartment. And I know even thinking it makes me a dick, but she doesn’t seem like the type to sleep with more than one guy in the same week. So no, I don’t think she’s having sex with Dave.
He is a lawyer. That’s probably appealing to women, right? But I’m the chief financial officer of a multibillion-dollar corporation. That trumps lawyer, doesn’t it? Hell, he’s not even the head of legal, not even close. How long has that guy worked here anyway? I open a browser on my desktop and access the company employment files. Dave Harcourt, twenty-five, a year younger than Sandra. He graduated from law school last spring and started working here a month after. He’s probably still in debt from school. Fuck, what kind of dick am I for even thinking about this?
I should take her out. Dave’s taking her out; I should stop having sex with her at the office and take her out on a date. Now how do I get sweet Sandra to agree to date me?
I drum my fingers on my desk. I think she’s been avoiding me all week. She disappeared on Monday after the liaison in my office and it’s been cloak-and-dagger ever since. I could pull her phone number from the company database and start sexting her, but I think that might freak her out.
I want to take her to dinner, somewhere nice, and maybe a show. I should woo her, take her to New York City for the weekend. Pull out all the stops and convince her to give me a chance. Because I want to be with Sandra. I fucking like Sandra. And I’m a goddamned idiot for thinking a fling with her would be enough.
I’ll start with lunch. Today. It doesn’t hurt that her date with Dave is tonight. I’ll take her to lunch and make sure I’m all that’s on her mind tonight. I glance at the clock as I punch in her extension and wait for her to pick up, but it rings through to voicemail. Shit, I don’t want to miss her, so I push back from my desk and stand. I’ll have to do a casual walk past her desk and try to catch her.
Preston’s desk is outside my office. I pause as I’m walking past. She has lunch with him most days.
“Preston,” I start, then stop. Can I just ask him if he’s having lunch with her today? And what, tell him I’m stepping in?
“What’s happening, hot stuff?”
“Can you not with the ‘hot stuff’ shit? We’ve discussed this.”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, big guy. I’m married.”
I groan and rub my forehead.
“What do you need?” he asks, turning his attention back to the computer in front of him, already bored with me.
I’m never going to hear the end of this, but…
“Are you having lunch with Sandra today?” I ask before I can think better of it.
He stops typing immediately and twirls his chair a complete three-sixty before slapping his hand on the desk to stop the rotation, then crossing his legs and dropping an elbow to his knee and propping his chin on his fist.
“No,” he says. But he draws it out while tilting his head and waiting for my next move.
“Just spit it out, Preston.”
“She’s already gone for the weekend,” he says with a smile while carefully watching my reaction.
The weekend, he said. Not the night. I mull that over for a second. Yes, it’s Friday, but the way he said weekend I’m clearly meant to read into it. Wait, she left with Dave for the weekend? The weekend? What the fuck?
“The weekend?” I repeat back to him, as casually as possible.
“Yup,” he responds, clearly enjoying this. I can feel my jaw twitching and I stuff my hands into my pockets while I contemplate what to do next.
“You’re an idiot,” Preston says.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re an idiot, sir?” he tries again.
“Just tell me how much she likes Dave, Preston. I don’t have time for this girly bullshit.” Jesus fuck, am I going to have to resort to getting girl advice from my gay assistant? What the hell has my life come to? Sandra has turned everything upside down.
“She doesn’t like Dave. She likes you. She’s had a crush on you forever and I’m totally breaking girl code telling you any of this.”
“Then why the hell is she spending the weekend with Dave?” I ask, ignoring his girl code.
“But you know Sandy’s a nice girl. She doesn’t know what to make of a guy who fucks her in his office but never asks her to dinner,” Preston continues. Apparently girl code is over. “Women are complex creatures, Gabe. They think it means something when a man takes his sweet-ass time asking her on a date. They think it means you’re just interested in the sex.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Obviously that’s not the case here, as based on the way you look at that girl it’s clear you’re already half in love with her.”