Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Sofia?” a familiar voice from down the street called.
I turned to find Natalie hurrying toward me. She glanced at the car I’d just stepped out of and then back at me.
“Who brought you?”
“Just Andrew’s car service. Apparently he hates New York cabs.”
“What a snob.”
I wasn’t sure snob was the right word. If Andrew was really a snob, he’d have a driver in London. Plus, he was right about our cabs.
“I’m surprised he let you use his car.”
I shrugged and Natalie gave the hostess our name. When we were seated, we ordered our cocktails and I grabbed Natalie’s hand across the table. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you so much.”
“Me too. Tell me everything. Why are you even here?”
How was I going to explain that I was pretending to be a buyer of a company Andrew wanted to acquire? “Andrew has some meetings. I’m just here . . . you know, assisting.”
“Wow,” she said. “I’m not sure if that’s a perk or not. I can’t imagine how awful he is to travel with.”
“Yeah, he didn’t say much on the way over.” I laughed. “Just a few grunts here and there when absolutely necessary.”
The waitress arrived with our cocktails and we placed our dinner order. Two meals out in one day, along with champagne and cocktails . . . Whose life was I living?
“That guy is the rudest asshole I’ve ever met,” Natalie said. I’d been hoping our drinks arrival would have changed the subject. I didn’t want to talk about Andrew being an asshole because he wasn’t. He was curt and sharp in the office, but now I knew a different side of him. “Any other jobs on the horizon?”
Truth was, I hadn’t been looking. The job at Blake Enterprises was a challenge, but I’d dealt with worse. “Andrew’s not that bad.” She gave me a disbelieving look. “And anyway, the money’s good.”
“You don’t mind that he’s so rude?”
I shrugged. “It’s not personal. He’s not everyone else’s chatty best friend except for me. It’s just . . . how he’s made.”
“Oh, so because he’s an asshole to everyone, that’s alright?”
“He’s just focused and knows what he wants.”
Natalie rolled her eyes and took a sip of her cocktail. “Does he still bite your head off if you disturb him before lunch?”
Not last time, when I’d had the call from Goode’s lawyers. “I just leave him to it.”
“What is he doing in there? I saw his inbox—he’s not spending all morning answering his messages. Maybe he’s watching porn.”
Andrew wasn’t that guy, although I still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing behind his office door every morning. Now that I knew him better, there were things that made more sense, like the lack of communication—he just liked to be efficient and didn’t see the point in small talk. But there were a number of things that didn’t: the way he shut himself away in his office every morning . . . and I still didn’t know why exactly the barman knew him as James.
Natalie was being ridiculous. “You make him sound like a monster. He’s not that bad. He gave me a job when he didn’t have to.”
“Because he was desperate. He goes through assistants like cups of coffee.”
I sat back in my chair. “Wow, thanks, Natalie.”
Our appetizers arrived and an awkward silence descended as the waitress needlessly described our food.
“I’m seeing my mom tomorrow,” I said, when the waitress had left, desperate to alleviate the tension.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Natalie said when we were once again alone. “You’re way too good for him. I just meant that . . . I’m sorry, I just—”
“It’s fine. It was a Hail Mary pass going for your job, but it paid off. I’m grateful he took a chance on me and I’m getting a lot more responsibility. I’m even going to a meeting on Monday. I’m enjoying it.”
I’d spent my life as the kid from the wrong side of the tracks, trying to do better for herself. Now I was actually doing better. Not many twenty-eight-year-olds were negotiating major deals on behalf of their boss.
“I’m pleased,” Natalie said, clearly not wanting to rock the boat.
“And I like him,” I said, feeling a little bit braver. “He’s got a good heart.”
Natalie swallowed her mouthful of Waldorf salad and looked me in the eye. “You like him?” She regarded me with the scrutiny of an NYPD detective sizing up a potential suspect.
“Yeah,” I said. “I really like him.”
She groaned like I’d just told her I was moving to Ohio. “You have a crush on him?”
“Of course I have a crush on him. He’s gorgeous.” That was no confession. Every straight woman who ever met Andrew was bound to have a crush on him, or at the very least, appreciate his body.
“Personality matters,” she replied.