Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“Oh, this one just arrived, too,” Libby, the shop assistant says as she holds up a gold dress.
“That’s nice.” I nod.
“I’ll hang it in the change room.”
“When is the ball?” Brooke asks.
“Tonight.”
“Tonight? You’re cutting it a bit close finding a dress, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I kind of forgot about it, to be honest. I’ve been so focused on this new job that I’ve thought about nothing else.” I pick another dress from the hanger. “What if I can’t do it?”
“Do what?”
“The job. I know nothing about cosmetic surgery. What the hell was I thinking even applying for a manager’s position there?”
“Stop it, you’re just nervous.” She hands me a cream dress. “Try this one on.”
I take the dress into the cubicle, along with the others, and I pull the curtain across.
“If you couldn’t do it, they wouldn’t have given you the job,” she calls out.
I take my top off. “Maybe I got the job because Dr. Morgan likes the look of me.”
“Who cares why you got it? No more shift work, no more cleaning up vomit, and the pay is nearly double.”
I roll my eyes as I step into the red dress. “I guess.”
“You’re just nervous and talking yourself out of it.”
I look in the mirror and smile at my reflection. “I like this one.”
“Show me.”
I step out of the cubicle.
Brooke’s eyes light up as she looks me up and down. “Hell yeah, that’s hot.”
It’s a deep red and fitted. The back is lace and the neckline is plunging. It’s a perfect fit. “I’ll take it.” I smile.
“You don’t want to try on the others?” Libby asks.
“No, I’ll wear them next time. I can’t be bothered to try on more.” I twirl and look at my behind once more. “What color shoes would I wear with this?”
“Nude.”
“Okay, I have a bag that will match,” I say as I stare at my reflection. “Hair up or down?”
“Up, to show off the back.”
I pull my hair up on top of my head to see what I look like. Aha, looks good. “Done.” I smile. “That was easy.”
* * *
I hear the key in the door at 6:45 p.m., and I smile. He’s never late.
“Hello?” I hear him call out.
“Hi, won’t be a minute. Can you pour us a drink?”
“I bought some champagne.” His deep voice calls.
I smile as I put on my lipstick. “There’s a reason I love you.”
He chuckles, and moments later I hear the pop of the cork.
“How was your day?” he asks.
“Good, although I’m freaking out about this job.” I rub my lips together.
“Why?” I hear the cupboards opening as he gets the champagne glasses.
“I don’t know.” I turn and look at my behind in the mirror. Wow, this dress is gorgeous. I walk out into the kitchen, and Nathan raises his eyebrows when he sees me.
“Wow.” He smiles and leans down to kiss my cheek. “You look… hot.”
I wiggle my hips and straighten his bowtie. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He passes me my glass of champagne and clinks it with his. “Cheers. We’re celebrating.”
“We are?”
“I got the apartment.” He smiles broadly.
My eyes widen. “You did?”
“We did. Now I’ll actually be able to fit into your apartment.”
I giggle.
“Now, what’s this about your new job?” he asks.
“I don’t know.” I take a sip. “Hmm.” I eye the bubbles in my glass. “You got my favorite. I guess I’m just nervous.”
“Why?”
“What if I can’t do it?”
“Eliza.” He gives me a beautiful, big smile. “You can do anything you set your mind to.”
“Aww.” I lean up and kiss his cheek, and I run my fingers through his stubble. “You’re the best cheerleader.”
“Well, that’s emasculating.” He raises a brow.
“You know what I mean.” I run my hands down over my body. “Do you like this dress?”
His eyes roam up and down my body. “I love this dress.”
“Do we have cheese?”
“Hmm.” He goes to the fridge and peers in. “That incompetent shopper probably didn’t buy any of the good stuff again.”
“I really do need to fire him.”
He chuckles as he pulls out some Camembert and places it onto the counter.
“Do we have quince paste?” I ask.
“Yes, Queen Elizabeth, give me a second to find it.”
I giggle. “I like that title. You may call me that all the time now, my faithful servant.”
He smirks as he digs out the quince paste and passes it to me. I make a little platter for two.
“You know, we should probably stop doing this before we go to these things. I always walk in looking three months pregnant.”
He shrugs as he shovels a cracker and camembert into his mouth. “I still look good.”
I giggle and take a big scoop of cheese onto my cracker and put it into my mouth.
“What’s your new boss like?” he asks.
“Umm.” I swallow what’s in my mouth and it scratches my throat the whole way down. “Seems okay.” I wince.