Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Before either of them could spew any more venom, Halo burst into tears, crying her little eyes out and raising the invisible white flag between Roc and Demi.
They both stopped fighting to console her.
“All right, Halo. Daddy’s sorry. Come on,” Roc pleaded. “Stop crying.” He picked her up, and she immediately laid her head on his shoulder while Demi rubbed her back in soothing circles.
“I’m sorry for making you cry, best friend.”
Halo lifted her head in response and wiped away her tears. “It’s okay. My daddy said him going to marry you and make you my new mommy, so don’t be mad, okay, Dem Dem?”
“All right,” Roc grumbled while Demi surprisingly giggled. If I wasn’t mistaken, there was even a blush creeping up her cheeks. “You doing too much,” he continued to fuss. “What did I say about telling all of my business? Let’s go.” Now that Halo had exposed him, he couldn’t get out of the door fast enough.
“But you did say that!” Halo whined just before the shop door slammed shut behind them.
“This is so stupid.” I huffed for the third time in ten minutes and tucked a loose loc back inside my top knot. I was sweating my ass off down here despite the cool draft circling the basement of Pride of Kings.
I’d been down here in the stockroom hauling boxes and supplies since the start of my shift.
Why?
Because I’d been six minutes late.
Rowdy had apparently woken up with a thorn in his paw and had been looking for an excuse to punish me.
To teach me a lesson in punctuality, he’d ordered me down to the basement to get started on a preliminary assessment of inventory to prep for the official count that would take place months from now.
After he’d walked away, I’d asked Tuesday what that even meant, but she’d only shook her head while avoiding my gaze, confirming what I’d already known.
It had been two weeks since the party, and just like when he made me sort his files, today’s task was total bullshit.
I huffed again and wiped the sweat off my brow after hauling a particularly heavy box from one of the shelves over to the metal table to count whatever was inside for no apparent reason.
God, I hated that man.
I grabbed the huge fifty-ounce bottle of water I’d had the forethought to swipe from Rowdy’s office and greedily guzzled down the last of the water.
Sure, I could have taken one from the snack bar in reception, but they were the cheap kind that was basically water from the tap with a bunch of chemicals thrown in to dilute the rotten smell and taste. Rowdy, on the other hand, had the good stuff. It was no wonder he drank it all day long. The water was cool, crisp, and, most importantly, no bad aftertaste.
I also may have wanted a little revenge from when I’d asked Rowdy for one yesterday after working through my lunch break to complete yet another useless task, and the asshole had told me no. I’d taken one then, too, when his back was turned, and now I was addicted to the taste.
I swallowed the last gulp with a gasp and set the bottle down to recycle later. As soon as I did, my bladder suddenly swelled, increasing the pressure in my lower pelvis until I was dancing on my feet. “Oooh, gotta pee. Gotta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee.”
I hurried upstairs to empty my bladder and check on Tuesday. She waved off my concern and continued scrolling Facebook on the computer while looking bored out of her mind. It was a slow day today.
When I returned to the stockroom minutes later, I found Rowdy leaning against the work table with a greasy bag from Pluto’s, a popular local burger spot whose line was always wrapped around the block, sitting next to him. He had the clipboard I’d been using to jot down my notes in his hand, and his gaze slowly lifted when I entered.
Rowdy was wearing a navy-blue Henley today instead of his usual work shirt and black cargos. I couldn’t help drooling over how his arms and chest looked in the material.
The smell of the food reached my nose across the stockroom, and my stomach gave an interested growl as I realized I’d worked through lunch again.
“How can I help you, Owen? And before you tell me what I did wrong or isn’t to your satisfaction,” I said while squaring my shoulders, “let me remind you that I still have until the end of the day to not meet your impossible expectations. I would also like to point out that you sent me down here with no real direction or goal, so it’s impossible for me to anticipate your needs if the objective isn’t made clear from the start.”