Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Asher: You’re killing me, Raven . . .
Me: So . . . dinner?
Asher: Did you get another promotion? Is that why you’re asking me out?
I chuckle.
Me: When did I say that I would pay? Lily is busy. I already checked.
Asher: Lily is busy? So I’m just your second choice, then. Is that how it goes?
Me: Pretty much. And I really don’t want to sit alone. So is that a yes?
Asher: . . .
Me: I see you typing, but I don’t see a yes . . .
Asher: Obviously, it’s a yes. You know I hate cooking.
Asher: But mainly I miss you. Dinner it is.
I laugh. Asher always makes me laugh. There had been a time when I wished I could look at Asher differently. If he could be tamed, he’d be the perfect guy. But alas, he’s like a brother, and I’ll never see him as anything but.
Me: Miss you, too, buddy!
Asher: So 7pm? Let’s do pizza.
Me: PIZZA! Don’t you want to do something a bit more sophisticated?
Asher: Not really. Do you?
Me: No. I love pizza. Okay, see you at 7. I better go. Work, work, work.
Asher: Later, babe . . .
I roll my eyes because Asher can’t shut off his flirting. It’s ingrained in him. I’m immune.
I switch off my phone and slide it back into my bag. A night with Asher is just what the doctor ordered. The two of us almost always drink a little too much and laugh a little too loudly, and it always ends up being a fun night out.
I wish I could open up to Asher about the night at Silver and who Charles really is. I wonder what he’d say. Would he be entertained by my crazy news? Or would he flip out and prove my mom and Lily right?
I don’t want to find out. Ever.
I look up and see Charles walking through with some of the executives. Those earlier sensations wash over me, and I squeeze my legs together once more.
Our eyes meet, and he grins, causing a riot of feelings. A blush creeps up my body, and I smile, lowering my eyes to my plate. The last person who needs to see the lust I’m wearing like a second skin is my boss and his cronies.
Thinking about Charles is a constant struggle between professionalism and the thought of wanting to rip off his clothes. I need to get a grip on myself, but being this close to him isn’t making it easy. I’ve reverted to a teenage girl with raging hormones, and it’s embarrassing as all hell. Even if I’m the only one who realizes the effect he has on me.
Maybe I need to rip off the Band-Aid and jump back into dating. If I could find a diversion with another guy, it could help me get back on track.
Focusing my attention on someone else can’t be a bad idea.
Asher has tons of hot friends. None of them interest me, but maybe I haven’t given them a chance.
Yes, I need a distraction from this weird mess I’ve found myself in. Anything to push Charles out of my head.
Lost in my thoughts, I actually jump when my phone rings. It’s a number I don’t recognize, and I almost ignore it, assuming it’s another annoying telemarketing call, but at the last second, I cave.
“Hello, this is Raven,” I say, waiting for the person on the other line to speak.
“Raven, it’s Charles.”
His husky voice washes over me, and I almost groan, but I stuff it down.
Way down.
I look toward where I’d just seen him moments ago, but of course, he’s no longer there. Had I manifested this damn call?
This is nuts.
“Raven?”
“I’m here, but how did you get this number?” The question comes out a little snappy, and I instantly regret it. How is it my fault I’m unable to control my reaction to him?
“It’s in your new hire paperwork.”
My hand smacks against my forehead. “Oh, right,” I say, feeling stupid. “What can I do for you?”
“I need you to work late tonight. Holly’s on board, but she has some scheduling conflicts. We need to get her photo shoots arranged ASAP.”
“Tonight?”
Dear God, this is not what I need.
Distance after those feelings last night. A new distraction . . . that’s what was on the menu. Not time spent alone in a dark office with a man I’m struggling to keep my hands off.
“Yes. Tonight,” he drawls as if I’m slow and he’s annoyed by it. “We’ll need to work until we have it all ironed out. Late nights are part of the job,” he says, sounding like a complete ass.
His attitude does the trick, and my lust is overturned with annoyance at his less than cheery disposition. I can get whiplash from the directions this man takes. It might be part of the job, but can’t a girl get a simple please?