Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
“Are you sure?” Greg asked, his eyebrows going up. “That location is pretty new, so I wouldn’t expect them to know much of anything.”
I shrugged.
“Just do it. Williamsburg is a hip neighborhood, with a different vibe from Manhattan. It’ll be good to check in, especially since they just opened their doors.”
Greg shrugged and acceded because it wasn’t any skin off his nose. Besides, most people are excited to visit New York, and I know he was looking forward to a couple extra days in the city.
But now, I’m here in Brooklyn, and Jamie’s staring at me with big brown eyes. She looks gorgeous, as usual. My friend’s daughter is lush and beautiful, and even the black apron we provide our employees can’t hide her curves. Those big tits push against the canvas fabric, and the strings of the apron are tied around her waist, showing off its narrow circumference. Cute sneakers decorate her feet, and she’s currently got a cap jammed down on her head. But even the baseball hat can’t hide the curly brown locks underneath, wisping out from her braid to frame her face.
“Hey Jamie,” I say again with a half-smile. “Cat got your tongue?”
The woman at the counter, whose name is “Colette” from her badge, immediately whirls around.
“Jamie, you know this guy? You know Dane Kenneally?” she asks in a surprised voice.
Jamie sputters for a moment, her cheeks going red.
“No, not really—”
I cut her off.
“What she means is yes,” I say in a smooth tone. “In fact, Jamie and I have known each other for a long time because I’m an old friend of her father’s. So actually, I’ve known her since birth.”
Jamie grows even more red then, her face going a near-eggplant shade of purple.
“Dane,” she sputters. “I mean, Mr. Kenneally—”
“Come on, let’s chat in the back. Is there an office we can use? Can you handle the customers on your own for five minutes?” I ask Colette, who’s staring at both of us with surprise. She jerks straight and nods quickly.
“Yes, of course. Here, I’ll take that mop from you, Jamie. The office is straight that away,” she says, jerking one thumb over her shoulder.
Then, I take the curvy girl’s elbow in my hand and pull her with me, down a short hallway, and into what must be the office. It’s not much more than twenty square feet, with a small metal desk pushed against the wall and boxes of supplies stacked against the wall.
“Ow, you’re hurting me!” the curvy girl exclaims, jerking her elbow away once the door is closed. “Let go!”
I stare at the beautiful brunette. Her cheeks are pink and her bosom heaving, but I like it.
“You look good, Pet.”
Jamie rolls her eyes.
“Hello to you too, Dane. What are you doing here, anyways? Shouldn’t you be wearing a suit and attending some corporate board meeting in Wyoming?”
I crack a grin while looking down at my blue sweater and dark jeans.
“Not every day as a CEO is spent meeting with the board, despite what people might think. But how are you?” I ask. “How are you enjoying New York? Your dad tells me you like it.”
For the first time since I’ve seen her, Jamie smiles too. Her brown eyes sparkle as she nods.
“Yeah, I do like it on the East Coast. School is good and the city’s exciting. But don’t try to change the subject, Dane. Seriously, Brooklyn? This is kind-of slumming it for a powerful CEO, right?”
I chuckle.
“I’m not the one slumming it, honey. You are. You’re the daughter of a billionaire businessman! When your dad told me you were looking for a position, I practically coughed up my coffee. Tell me: do you even like coffee, sweetheart? Or were you just using me to get a job?”
Jamie smiles despite herself.
“I wasn’t using you, Uncle Dane. But you’re right. I don’t love coffee, and hardly ever drink it.”
I fix her with a look.
“So you’re a barista who literally whips drinks up all day for customers, but you can’t stand the stuff yourself. It’s like being an ice cream scooper who scoops ice cream all day. How can you stand it?”
She shrugs.
“There are worse things in life. Besides, coffee’s not that bad. I could be working with animal fertilizer or something gross like that. That would be a hundred times worse.”
I laugh despite myself because I love this woman’s sense of humor. She’s always been funny and sassy ever since a young age, and I’m glad to see that New York hasn’t stamped out that part of her personality.
“You’re right. That would be a lot worse,” I acknowledge. “So you never drink the good stuff despite getting it for free here?”
Jamie thinks for a moment, tapping her foot.
“No, I guess I’ll have a cup or two occasionally. But it’s very occasional.”
I chuckle.
“Okay, and do you load it with milk and sugar to hide the taste?”