Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Lorenzo is the reason I made that rule.” When I’d first opened the shop, I’d hired an artist who was way more interested in getting in my pants than serving our clients. I’d let him seduce me and had regretted it immediately. He’d only lasted a week.
“I won’t go so far as to say Ezra is innocent, but he’s… not from your world.”
I huffed. “Few people are.”
She glared at me. “Leo—”
I raised my hands in surrender. “I promise he’ll be safe with me.”
“Anyone would be safe with you since you can, like, kill a man with a toothpick sixteen different ways.”
I laughed. “That might be an exaggeration, but I could probably think of fourteen.”
“Do not hurt him, or you will answer to me, and badass or not, I promise I will make you pay.”
She was a foot shorter than me and nearly a hundred pounds lighter, but her words made me shiver. “I don’t doubt it.”
“Good.”
“I don’t suppose you’d give me his number?”
Cathy shook her head. “His shift starts at seven tomorrow.”
“You want me to get up and be here at seven in the morning?”
She grinned. “I’ll have already been baking for hours.”
“Fine. But you’d better have some damn strong coffee ready for me.”
“Deal.”
As I returned to my shop, I had the feeling I’d just made a terrible mistake, not because I had to get up at the fucking crack of dawn, but because every time I thought of Ezra something inside me went all soft. But it was too late to change my mind now. Ezra was going to be mine. My receptionist that is. Not anything else.
3
Ezra
I was running late for the second time that week. Cathy had been amazingly patient, but I knew she had a limit. Waiting tables was not the perfect job for me, but Cathy was a fantastic boss, and the pay was better than I could expect at most places. I didn’t want to fuck up the opportunity.
After exiting the train, I ran down the street, nearly knocking over a family of tourists and an older woman who was a regular customer. I apologized profusely and promised her coffee and pastry would be on me today.
She waved me off. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sturdier than I look. Go on. You’re obviously in a hurry.”
“Thank you.”
When I reached the bakery, my reflection in the window let me know my hair looked as crazy as I’d feared. After I stepped inside, I realized my t-shirt was on backwards, just as I recognized Leo standing at the counter talking to Cathy. I’d never seen him come in this early. His shop didn’t open until noon, and it was rare to see Leo before ten. Of course, the morning I’d run in like a lunatic who can’t dress himself, he’s up early.
When he turned to look at me, I felt like he saw way too much—all my insecurities and the unrelenting crush I had on him—but I couldn’t look away. He held my gaze as I approached, and it’s a miracle I didn’t trip.
As I started to step behind the counter, Cathy said, “I’ll take care of things here for now. Leo would like to talk to you.”
My heart was already beating fast from my race to get to work. Cathy’s words sent my heart rate into overdrive. I was surprised they couldn’t hear it banging against my chest. “You… um…”
“Come on,” Leo picked up two to-go cups of coffee and tilted his head toward his usual corner booth.
I walked slowly but still managed to bang my messenger bag into a chair and nearly topple it over.
Leo turned, and I could tell he was suppressing a laugh. “Good thing I carried the coffee.”
Heat filled my cheeks. “I swear, I’m not…”
“Not what?” he asked as we settled into the booth.
How did he always manage to stay so collected? Nothing ruffled him. What would it take to make him—
No. I did not need to think about that.
He was waiting for an answer, relaxed, arm across the back of the booth, looking right at me.
Fuck.
“I’m not as incompetent as it seems.”
Leo gave me a lazy smile. “I don’t think you’re incompetent at all, just nervous, and maybe not suited to be a waiter.”
“Wait. Are you firing me? Did Cathy ask you to do it for her?”
“I’m offering you a job.”
“A job?” My mouth fell open.
“I need a new receptionist, and I thought you might be interested in the position.”
“But I…” I looked toward the counter, and Cathy gave me a thumbs up. Was she really okay with me leaving suddenly? Was I okay with it? How could I work for Leo and not drool over him all day, not to mention all the tattooed hotties that would be in and out of the shop?
“I talked to Cathy first,” Leo assured me. “I wouldn’t have asked you if she wasn’t okay with you leaving the café.”