Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
So I let him lean over my shoulder as I got my account set up and logged into the system on one of the communal computers.
“It seems pretty similar to the system at my old job,” I said.
“Where’d you work before?” Chase asked.
It was the first question that veered out of his careful mask of disinterest, and I felt an annoying pang of fear. I also had to avoid my temptation to glance up at the cameras. Surely Mr. Stone had better things to do than obsessively watch me on the cameras all day, but I still couldn’t shake the slight tingle on the back of my neck. I also hated that I felt just a little turned on by the idea of his attention being so focused on me. It should’ve only creeped me out and annoyed me, but I’d never met a guy who seemed to want to control me so badly. It was like he thought I belonged to him just because I worked for him, and some deep, subconscious part of me liked that a little, even if I’d never admit it to another living person.
“You alright?” Chase asked.
I jumped a little and realized I’d zoned out. “Sorry. I worked in Manhattan at a firm called Bower’s Financial Group. My boyfriend’s father actually owned the place.”
“Ahh, okay,” Chase said. “But you’re here now. Does that mean things didn’t go well in New York?”
“That is an understatement,” I said, laughing a little.
Chase smiled, then held up his palms. “Sorry. I’m not trying to pry. Your business is your business.” He leaned a little closer, and I could see he’d either forgotten to be cautious around me or no longer cared. There was a twinkle in his eye. “But… If you wanted to meet up after work for coffee sometime, I’ll be happy to listen. If you need someone to talk to, that is.”
I smiled, biting my lip. He really was cute. Nice, too. But I could tell his invitation was for more than casual friendship. The idea of dating already or even a little flirtation made my stomach turn. It was like that time I had bad chicken from a takeout place and couldn’t even drive by their sign without getting aggressively nauseous for months. “That’s really nice, but–”
Cassie was suddenly beside me. She was leaning a little crookedly with a palm on my desk and her eyes were half-lidded. She was glaring slightly as she rubbed at one of her temples. “Hey,” she said. “I need to show you something at my desk.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Thank you for helping me get all this set up, Chase.”
Chase looked more pale than he had as he nodded. “Sure.” He rushed off to an unoccupied desk before I could even get up from my chair.
“Is everything okay?” I asked Cassie as I got up.
“My head is about to explode, I’ve got the shits, and I really don’t want to be here. But other than that, no. I got one of those scary emails from Mr. Stone asking me to help you get set up immediately if I didn’t want to be fired. So,” she said tightly. “Get your pretty little ass to my desk and prepare to get set up.”
“But Chase just helped me get set up. I’m already in the system and–”
Cassie took my arm in her grip. Even if she wasn’t feeling well, she was still frighteningly strong. “Let’s go.”
“Wow,” I said. “You’re really strong. What kind of workouts do you do?”
“Crossfit and rock climbing,” she said. “On the weekends I do long distance rowing.”
I laughed. “Sometimes I put on shoes to go for a run but when a good song comes on I end up walking so I can enjoy it. Then I convince myself that walking is better than sitting, so I just kind of enjoy the walk.”
Cassie gave me a look. “Walking is better than sitting. But you should really aim for an hour a day of exercise. At least five days a week.”
I smiled. “Maybe you can let me tag along with you and show me how it's done some time.”
She finally seemed to forget whatever was bothering her long enough to give me a genuine smile. “Yeah? I could show you the ropes if you wanted.” She seemed to stand a little taller.
“Great. Do you want some Midol or something? I always have an assortment of pills in my purse. It looks like you have a headache.”
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m trying this raw fish nutrition thing I read about. I think it isn’t agreeing with my stomach. And I don’t take any supplements.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s okay to take medicine if your head hurts.”
“I’m very particular about what I put in my body,” she said in a tone that told me the topic was closed.