Overworked Read Online Dark Angel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
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I flash the server an award-winning smile, she drops the menus on the floor, and then scrambles to pick them up.

“Woah, babe. Slow down, chill a little. I got this,” I say, bending down to help her.

Killian and Xane arrive while all this unfolds; both are going to give me shit for this. I can see it on their face the moment they arrive. Some days, those assholes need to be late to a meeting.

“What the hell, Spencer. Hurting the staff already?” Xane says.

“You should tell your boss that he pushed you,” Killian adds.

Both the fuckers get the girl so frustrated that once again, she drops the menus.

“I’m so sorry, I dropped them again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. Please forgive me,” she says.

None of us say a word. No need to make the waitress feel like shit. She’s human, and I’m in too good of a mood right now.

This place is nice. Not a four star, but I’ve never had a bad meal here. Plus, I don’t go for all that fancy shit the others like to eat, anyway. Give me a sweet burger and some fries, and I’m happy.

After all the shit calms down, we all take a seat at the table. It feels like every female in the place is checking us out. Little do they know there’s only one woman that matters in our lives.

None of us need anyone else. We’ve all decided that already.

Julia’s our girl.

We’ve never fully committed to sharing a woman before, but then again, none were ever like Julia. It takes a serious doll to unite four monster forces like us.

Before we can even start our talk, the waitress shows back up, but this time with glasses of water. If she drops these, we might have a problem.

“Can I get anyone a drink?” the waitress says.

First thing I notice is that she has more makeup on, and her perfume’s a little overpowering.

“A corona for me,” I say.

“Scotch on the rocks,” Killian says.

“Whiskey neat,” Xane says, closing the order.

The waitress seems to be trying to flirt awkwardly as we speak. Her eyelashes flutter way too many times for my taste. It’s like she’s trying to punctuate our order with her charms—or lack thereof.

“So, what’s happening with the remodel?” I ask.

We’ve spent a shit ton of money for this project, and I want to make sure that Julia will be happy with it. No matter what happens between the five of us, I have respect for that woman. She’s the first one who ever made me want something more than a quick fuck.

Xane tosses some paperwork on the table for Derek and me.

“It’s going well. The decorator wants to know what kind of lighting we want,” says Xane.

What the fuck do they mean lighting? The kind you turn on to brighten up the place? How the hell am I supposed to know what lighting brands there are?

I flip a switch or open a blind. Simple as that. I know nothing about bulbs, the shape of the fixtures, and if we want them to voice activated.

“How the hell would I know? Just get ones where you flip a switch and turn them on,” I say, laughing.

The waitress shows up with our drinks, brushing into each of us when she sets them on the table. I ignore it.

When she asks if we’re ready to order, all of us look surprised.

We haven’t even checked the menu yet. Not hard for me, though. I’m easy to please.

“Burger—well-done. And fries. Add bacon,” I say. “To the burger, too.”

“Steak, medium-rare, salad, and caramelized carrots,” Xane orders.

“Sounds good, but toss those carrots and add a baked potato for me,” Killian finishes off the order and hands her the menus.

She hangs back for one moment before scurrying back to put in our order.

I can’t help but laugh at this chick. This waitress has bumped us, batted her lashes, and even dropped a hint that she’s single.

Would it have been rude to say that none of us give a fuck if she’s single or not?

Killian grabs the paper off the table and reads off the list of things done.

“What about the furniture? I think we should go with something modern. Black with red accents for the chairs, and desks all stainless steel,” Killian says.

I make a face, knowing that Julia would hate that shit. “Fuck, no. Julia needs something comfortable. Maybe some bean bag chairs.”

Both look at me. I see a look of disgust.

“FUCK, no!” both Killian and Xane protest together.

I can’t stop laughing. Every time I say we need beanbag chairs, the others freak out. They have no sense of taste when it comes to comfort.

I have them all over my pad. Chicks love it. Just make sure you have extra covers on them.

Easier to clean, you know, for times when you need to.


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