Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
But then the curvy girl stops me.
“You’re right,” she says with a giggle, backing away and heading to the island. She pulls out a bar stool and places her bag beside her place setting. “We should probably eat.”
My hard-on feels like it’s going to burst, and I swallow heavily. I had been so lost in thought, so lost in her that I didn’t anticipate that she would agree with me. I shake my head slightly, and when I look back at her beautiful face, she has a sly smirk and a teasing gleam in her eyes. The curvy woman knew exactly what I was thinking and cut it off to tease me.
Oh, it’s so on now.
“So tell me about yourself,” I invite as we dig into the feast.
Olivia takes a sip of her burgundy and bats her lashes at me over the rim of the glass, her eyes seductive and lingering. She places the glass down without breaking eye contact, her lips stained red from the liquid.
“What do you want to know?”
I grin at her flirting and reply, “I want to know all about you. Don’t hold back, sweetheart. Tell me everything.”
She smirks and pops a piece of chicken in her mouth, her curls falling in front of her face as she chews.
“Everything?” she teases.
I nod. “Everything.”
She giggles again.
“Okay. I went to the University of Maine and I have a degree in art history, but I work as a paralegal. I had a hard time finding a job in the art history field, so at first, it was just about finding something that would pay the bills.”
“Art history is a far cry from law,” I agree. “But you don’t mind the law?”
She shrugs. “I thought I was going to hate it because I didn’t know much about legal work. But it’s turning out to be okay actually. I like it and I can see why what we do is important. I even seem to have impressed some of the attorneys at Disdale Trout and more than a few have mentioned that I should pursue law school.”
My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline, although honestly, I’m not surprised because Olivia is clearly very intelligent.
“Wow, law school? Are you considering it?”
Again, she shrugs.
“I am, but I’m just not sure I want to pile more money onto the money I already owe to the government. Student loans are kicking my ass.”
“Don’t I know it,” I groan. “I’ll be paying mine off for the rest of my life. I’ve barely made a dent, they’re so enormous.”
Her face becomes downcast, a shadow masking her beautiful features.
“Yeah, it makes me think twice. The good part is that at least I’ll make a decent amount of money if I succeed as a lawyer. Being a paralegal for the rest of my life isn’t going to pay my bills, unfortunately, so I have to do something, you know?”
I nod my head. “Do you love it though? Do you love it like you love art history?”
She bites her lip in thought and looks at me with uncertainty in her eyes.
“I think I could one day. I like being able to help people when they need it the most. You literally hold their entire life in your hands, and it sounds like a lot of pressure, and it is, but I think it would motivate me to try and work even harder. I try to think about that whenever I get really irritated at work. I remind myself that I’m helping someone and it motivates me in turn.”
I smile at her before I can even stop myself. This woman is so kind, so thoughtful, and so generous. Her desire to help people is inspiring and the amount of care and dedication she puts into her work is truly inspiring.
“You know,” I begin, “some people would say being a paralegal is boring because all you do is sit at a desk and stare at case files. But you make it sound bigger than that.”
She nods her head and picks up a scoop of mashed potatoes with her fork.
“It is bigger than that because you’re helping to change peoples’ lives. Maybe my role is a small one, but it’s a crucial part of the puzzle, and that can’t possibly be boring.”
“You’re amazing, Olivia,” I murmur, impressed. “Truly something.”
I see the gorgeous smile spread across her face, even as she tries to hide it behind the back of her hand. She says, “You must understand though, being a doctor and all. Your work is so important, especially now.”
“I do,” I respond as I swallow my chicken. “But it can be boring at times, especially working in the ER.”
She furrows her brow in confusion and puts down her fork, resting an elbow on the island and holding her chin in her hand as she looks at me with genuine interest.