Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 153935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
“Insane. Is Zen Garden okay?” Paige asks, shaking her fist at a van that cuts us off in the traffic so hard her gold locks bounce.
“Perfect,” I say. “I need something yummy enough to forget I ever told you.”
“Aw, c’mon!”
She laughs and we travel the last few blocks, then pull into a parking place. She kills the car and turns to look at me. “Brina, if he said you’d never speak of it again and just ignored you...forget it. He’s playing you, and it’s a huge pain in the butt when regular guys do it. When it’s a billionaire boss? Screw that. Who needs drama with dudes who already think they’ve got it all at their beck and call.”
I turn away from the window and meet her eyes.
“You’re right, and I wish it was that easy. But I can’t get him out of my mind. It’s crazy, intense, and yes, I know, dumb. It sucks that I have to see him.”
She lets out a breath. “Yeah, he’s your idiot boss, and you need your job. Hmm. You can’t really distance. The problem is, he’s got you working so much you aren’t dating anymore. You’re probably lonely and he’s a jerk of jerks for stringing you along. We’re getting on Tinder and getting you laid.”
Her eyes gleam like she’s on a mission. I love serious Paige so much my laughter makes me bang my head off the back of the seat.
“You don’t get it, Paige. It was the best kiss ever. Getting laid with some rando won’t get my mind off Magnus Heron. It might even make it worse.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Wanna bet? Getting laid will so get your mind off Boss Killjoy. But if you doubt me, there’s only one way to find out. I’ll even leave you the apartment to yourself on Friday night so you have the perfect chance.”
“It’s been more than a month since Arizona. I’m still riled up about it and the mountain of work that’s always there doesn’t change it. I’m not sure a close encounter of the sexy kind will help.” I sigh.
Paige smiles and does this funky chest pop from side to side.
“What are you doing?” I ask, side-eyeing her.
“Dancing until you let me work my magic. You convinced yet or should I plan on doing this all night?” She sticks her tongue out, wiggling a brow.
“Seriously. Why do I take advice from you again?” I laugh, knowing full well what her superpowers are. If there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s raising the mood through the silliest, most embarrassing antics ever.
“Give it a chance,” she insists, flopping back in her seat.
What can I say? If her bizarre fix works, I shouldn’t turn her down.
We spend our whole time over noodles and wantons with her showing me the ropes. Every trick in existence to land a perfectly hot date to knock Mag off his growly pedestal.
* * *
I go back to work on Friday, the last day of work before New Year’s Eve, which is kind of awesome.
Despite having the entire week clear, I don’t want to get buried.
I’m there by five for one day and then have several more off. The date Paige helped set up is right after work. So I’ve come dressed in a low-cut, skin-tight red dress and the shock and awe heels my parents bought.
When I bring Mag’s coffee in, he’s at his desk.
Surprise.
I set the coffee down with an audible thump.
“Since when are you at your desk this bright and early? It’s a slow time of year.”
He looks up from his laptop, a notepad at his side, holding a pencil. “With virtually everyone out, I don’t have meetings. It’s been nice. I can actually get vision work done for the new year.” His eyes saunter up and down my body, narrowing before resting on my face. “That’s a bright damn dress.”
I run my fingers down it. “Too bright, you think?”
He swallows, his throat moving.
“No, no, I was just...surprised is all.” He shakes his head, tapping his pencil against the desk. “You’re a striking woman, but you know that.”
“Is that a problem, Mag?” I ask, fluttering my fingers against my chest in mock-worry.
“Hardly,” he snaps, looking at my neckline with eyes like pointed daggers before meeting my gaze again. “It’s simply not as conservative as your usual style.”
He clears his throat.
I grin. “Actually, I have a date when I’m out of here today, and your eyes say this was the right choice. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Date?” Those hell-blue eyes go electric as his eyebrows arch.
Today, King Grump definitely fits his name.
“Since it’s the holidays, I won’t berate you, but here’s a reminder,” he growls, still glaring. “You’re at work, Miss Bristol. When we have a full crew again, I expect you to show up dressed professionally.”