Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“It was very nice of you to call. Thank you.”
Alexis sighs. “Okay, I need to go. I’m glad you’re doing well, and I’ll pass along your message to Joe. Take care.”
“You, too.”
“Of course. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
I sigh, grab my stuff, and exit the car. I sort my emotions as I get to the front door.
It occurs to me that Alexis’s call summarizes our relationship. It’s friendly and thoughtful—she didn’t have to call or tell me anything. It’s also forced and abrupt. But maybe that’s just normal in this anything but normal situation. We’re all trying our best. This can’t be easy for her either.
I smile and open the door. At least I had my mother. I had the best. I can’t ask for anything more. I toss my bag on the requisite chair and kick off my shoes. My body begs for a hot bath while my head cries for a glass of wine.
Wine wins.
I head to the kitchen. I’m reaching for a glass when my phone vibrates in my other hand.
Troy: My expense report has been uploaded to the system.
I sink against the counter, my hip digging into the square edge, and type a message back.
Me: I didn’t even have to ask.
Troy: It’s integral to my employment.
Me: You don’t want to admit you’re getting trained by me. Slowly but surely, you’re getting right where I want you.
Troy: And where might that be?
Heat flames my cheeks as I reread his message. Either I’m reading that wrong or Troy is developing a sense of humor.
How do I answer this? I certainly can’t say that I’d like him any way he’d take me—pinning me against a wall, throwing my legs around his neck, beneath me as I bounce on his cock.
Me: I can’t tell you that.
Troy: Why not?
Me: Because then it won’t be any fun.
I lift my gaze to pick up my glass when my sight settles on something else.
Troy’s response buzzes in my palm, but I don’t read it.
A slow shudder runs the length of my spine as I examine the refrigerator magnets. The two squirting ones have been moved to the bottom.
Burt didn’t touch them yesterday. They were in the correct spot when he left after dinner. And they were where they were supposed to be when I left for work. I grabbed a bottle of water for the drive and would’ve noticed if they were out of place. It would’ve bothered me.
But it didn’t. Because they were in the right spot.
I glance over my shoulder as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Did Burt come here while I was gone? I mull that over. It’s the simplest answer, but he’s never done that before. He certainly doesn’t have a key. I bite my bottom lip. Maybe he thought I was home, and I’d left the door unlocked.
I swallow past the lump in my throat.
My skin prickles with anticipation as I swipe off my text app and call Burt. Each ring feels like a lifetime. Thankfully, it only takes three lifetimes for him to pick up.
“Hey, sweet pea,” he says. “Are you calling to tell me you didn’t eat that chocolate cake in the fridge and I can have it?”
“Hey, Burt.” I suck in a quick, hot breath. “That’s not why I was calling, actually. I have a really weird question for you. You didn’t come by my house today by any chance, did you?”
“Nope. Why?”
“Just … No reason. I was just curious.”
“Was I supposed to?”
I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “No. You weren’t. I just thought maybe you needed something and just came in. The magnets that you always mess with were moved. I know you didn’t move them last night.”
“Magnets? What are you talking about?”
“The magnets …” Troy’s texts buzz again. “You know, the two magnets on my refrigerator that you like to move around.”
“What?” He chuckles. “Sweet pea, I don’t touch your magnets. You warn me every time not to.”
My throat narrows, and I still.
Is he screwing with me?
Burt has moved the magnets three times over the past couple of weeks … hasn’t he? I rack my brain to remember why I assumed it was Burt but can’t remember.
If it’s not him, then who is it?
My heart drums against my ribs.
“Did you happen to see anyone here today?” I ask, my words falling fast. “Was anyone here at all?”
“Not this afternoon, but your friend Morgan just pulled up.”
“She did? Just now?”
“Yeah. Hi, Morgan,” he calls out.
My breath comes in and out rapidly. “Burt, I need to go. Thanks for your help.”
“Anytime.”
I end the call and race to the front door, pulling it open as Morgan’s knuckle is poised to knock. She takes me in and moves back.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“I don’t know.”
“What’s going on? I just stopped by on the off chance you were here. I thought we could grab dinner, but I feel like I just interrupted something.”