Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I stop next to Theo. “Would you like me to grab you a pastry?”
“No.”
“Theo, I must say, these are delicious. You’ll have to have your assistant share her secret with mine.” If I weren’t so close, I would have missed his faint growl. Since he has zero manners, I reply for him.
“Oh, you bet. But no sharing. We can’t have everyone stealing our favorite bakery—”
“Sit down, Miss Evans.”
I look at Theo, narrowing my eyes. “Grouch,” I whisper under my breath, then make my way down the other side of the table, handing out the last report before finding my seat. Since it would be a sin not to enjoy a warm pastry myself, I snag one from the tray, then compliment the man next to me. “Great tie.”
He smiles. “Thank you. My wife got it on her last trip to Milan.”
“Very flattering on you. She has great taste.”
My phone dings on the table, and I peek down.
Unknown Number: Stop flirting with every goddamn client.
Confused, I glance toward the front of the table, my eyes narrowing on Theo as he schmoozes the man next to him. Flirting? I’m doing the same thing he is, my job. The one he’s paying me to do. I peer over at the man next to me. He turns and smiles, and I return the gesture before typing back.
Me: It’s called being friendly. You should try it sometime.
I bring my attention back to my pastry and take a bite, ignoring him. “Shoot!” I scoot back, looking down at the glob of cherry filling on my blouse.
“Oh, here, let me help you.” The gentleman grabs a napkin and hands it to me.
“Faulty pastry.” My cheeks heat as I accept the napkin and wipe at the filling, smearing the stain in more. I make the mistake of looking down the table. Blue eyes blaze into mine.
Well, that’s a new level of angry.
Yep. I should probably just. . .
“Excuse me.” Getting up, I skirt out of the room and shuffle into the bathroom, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it under the sink. “Bad pastry. I loved this shirt,” I mumble, dabbing at the stain even though it’s pointless. It’s already ruined.
I head back to Theo’s office, remembering his stash of clothes in his private bathroom. He wouldn’t mind if I borrowed a shirt. Hurrying, I unbutton my blouse, toss it in the trash, and open the closet to shuffle through his spare suit shirts. “Come on. Give me a stylish shirt I can work—”
“What the hell are you doing?”
I nearly jump out of my skin as I whip around. Theo stands in the bathroom doorway, the creases in his forehead deep, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes fall to my shirt or lack thereof. “Jesus,” he grunts, turning his back to me.
I look down, remembering it’s laundry day. My nipples are on display, poking through my sexy, sheer lace bra. “Shit. Shoot.” I wrap my arms around my chest. “Sorry, I was just trying to find a spare shirt. I thought—”
“The drive.”
“Huh?”
“The drive!” Faced away from me, he reaches his hand back and waves it. “You have the USB drive. I can’t start the meeting without the damn drive.”
Oh! “Yeah—yes! It’s in my pocket.” I scramble into the back pocket of my slacks and press the drive into the palm of his hand. “Here.” His fingers grip around mine, and something sparks between us. He whips around, his eyes landing on mine. Then they lower. His frown deepens. Since my hand is outstretched, he gets another shot of my nips. “Sorry, it’s obviously cold in here.” I stretch my free arm over my chest.
“For the love of—put a damn shirt on,” he snaps.
“Well, I would if I could find one—”
“Where’s the one you had on?”
“In the trash. It’s ruined—”
“Not ruined enough. Put it back on and get back to that goddamn meeting.” He snatches his hand back, taking the drive with him, and storms off.
“Asshole,” I mumble as I dig out my shirt. Holding it up, I inspect the stain. Gross. “Come on, Fay. Be resourceful.” I look around, debating whether I could make a shirt out of toilet paper. Instead, I spot a fancy scarf in Theo’s closet. Sliding my shirt back on, I wrap the scarf around my neck and inspect myself in the mirror. “You’ll have to do.” I praise my quick thinking and head back to the meeting. Theo’s brow creases when I enter. I brush him off and retake my seat.
The meeting goes off without another hiccup—I think. I was bored out of my mind and may have nodded off once or twice. After two hours, everyone’s shaking hands and signing deals.
“Thank you, gentlemen. We’ll be in touch.” I smile as Theo shakes the final hand before turning his attention to me.