Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
I’m not sure I’m ready to tell her that I’ve been seeing Ian, that I haven’t been able to stop. But on the other hand, who can I talk to about him if it’s not her and Becka?
“I might be seeing Mr. Ford,” I grudgingly admit.
She stops scanning her retail order form on her computer and sets the laptop aside. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“Has the divorce gone through?”
“Not yet, but I know that he and his wife are done with each other and it’s only a matter of time. I really like him, Bryn.”
“I know you do—and does he like you?”
“He’s not the kind of man to pussyfoot around things. He wants us to see where this goes, to casually date and in the meantime have yummy sex.” I beam on that last part.
“Sara! When did this happen?”
“It’s recent. With the House of Sass launch and you and Christos back together…”
She leaps to her feet and comes over to grab my shoulders. “Don’t ever, ever not share important things with me because you think I have too much to deal with. I don’t. We’re friends; I want to be there for you.”
“And you are. We’re talking now, aren’t we?”
“We are! But I need the details, starting from… that day in Central Park and every instance afterward.”
I groan, but laugh and promise to catch her up. “Only if you give me the details of your and Christos’s makeup. One day you’re broken up and the next you’re getting married.”
“I know. I still can’t believe it!”
We spend the twenty minutes catching up on each other’s lives. I hear about the way Christos proposed and how excited, scared, and in disbelief Bryn still feels.
I tell her about Ian—how I’m addicted-obsessed-hooked on him really bad.
“Enjoy him, Sara. Why not? He’s into you; I could tell when I saw you two bump into each other that day in Central Park.”
I sigh. “I’m trying not to put my whole heart into it, you know? Let things move at their own pace.”
Bryn nods. “That’s a good idea. Once his divorce comes through, you’ll feel less concerned about whatever it is you have between you two. Just be careful,” she says. “And post me. I’m here for you.”
“Promise. I’ll see you soon and I’m here for you too,” I say before packing a bag and heading to the Upper East Side, where Ian and I promised to show off our dinner skills. I know I’ll be staying over. And while we innocently play house, I can’t wait to play with the man of the house himself.
FURNITURE AND FILMING
Sara
I have a fabulous week shopping for furniture with my Suit. We hit up Restoration Hardware, Room and Board, Safavieh Home. They have the most beautiful lighting fixtures I’ve ever seen. Their chandeliers are gorgeous. The couches are heaven. I lie on one couch so amazing I decide I don’t want to get up. “Yummy, I’ve got your perfect couch.”
He drops down beside me and stretches his arms out, shifting as he frowns and surveys the masterpiece.
“Don’t tell me it isn’t delicious,” I dare.
“What is this?”
“It’s the Cloud! It’s all feathers! Can’t you feel how soft the cushion filling is? And it’s a modular, so you can order as much as you want.” I curl up on the couch and feel as if I’m floating. “It’s my dream couch.”
“Dancer.” He rolls his eyes. “There’s not a thing we have seen that’s not your dream something.”
“Well, it’s a big house! I’m doing all this for free, you know. My taste is spot on.”
Ian’s phone rings, interrupting our flirtation.
He checks the screen. “I have to answer.”
I sigh, trying to act irritated though I’m not. He’s a busy man. He has work to do.
I watch him as he listens to whoever’s talking, his expression grim, his answers short. When he finally ends the call, I ask, “What happened?”
“Camera guy’s sick.”
“What are you filming?”
“A documentary. Want to come?” he asks after a moment.
“I’d love to.”
“I’ll take you. Once we get back on track.”
He turns to the Restoration Hardware designer who’s helping us select things for Ian’s home and asks what colors are in stock for same-week delivery.
“Your girlfriend really loves this couch.”
I open my mouth to explain to the woman that I’m not sure we’re there yet because he has a wife, but Ian simply smiles at me, his eyes dark as he takes me in on the couch. “She does.”
* * *
It’s Friday when his camera guy is back in good form, and Ian drives us to the film set.
“Hey, Jake.” He greets a tall, blond guy who he introduces to me as one of his LA directors.
“My director flew in to start filming,” he explains as Jake sets up a new chair by the producer’s chair, which I realize belatedly is for me.
They’re all bending over backward for Ian, blatantly licking his balls and complimenting him, like he’s some sort of big shot.