Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
The second she’s gone I stand and enter the attached office. Floor-to-ceiling windows line the entire office space. I step right up to the edge and place my forehead against the glass. Holy shit, the view from up here is insane. We must be on the top floor. Logan Square looks bigger than you’d think from up here. The fountain surrounded by grass is easy to make out. The cars rounding the circular drive are tiny though. Turning around, I survey the room. It’s probably four times the size of my dorm room, maybe more. There’s a large desk with two chairs in front of it and a separate seating area with a sofa and chairs by the wall with the refrigerator that is hidden behind decorative paneling.
There’s a kitchenette section lining the wall adjoining the outer office. I check out the contents of the fridge. Not because I want anything, just ’cause I’m nosey. But he has Diet Sun Drop and I love Diet Sun Drop. I love it almost as much as I love new shoes, so I grab a can and move on to the desk. I hesitate for a moment. This can’t be Sawyer’s office, can it? It’s really impressive. But Sandra’s desk is just outside. This must be his office. I chew on my lip for a moment then plop in the chair behind the desk. There’s a desktop computer, but it’s locked, obviously. Which is fine, because even though Sawyer hacked my Facebook, physical snooping is more my thing.
There’s not much on the surface of the desk. A pen, a couple of Post-Its. It’s very disappointing. But then everything is digital nowadays, so anything entertaining is probably on his computer. I set my soda on the desk and open the drawer. It’s weird the way security didn’t want to let me in the building. Nothing in the drawers either. How annoying.
“Find anything interesting?”
It’s Sawyer.
Of course.
Twenty-four
“No.” I slide the drawer shut and, standing, glare at him. I push my hair over my shoulders and get ready to lay into him. “What is wrong with you? You hacked my Facebook, Sawyer! That is not okay. My mother is messaging me wanting to know what you like to eat for Christmas dinner,” I hiss. “I am going to kill you.”
He grins and closes the office door behind him, the click loud enough for me to hear across the room.
“Look, weirdo. I don’t know how you normally conduct your relationships, but what you did? Not okay.”
“I needed to get your attention. I’d say it worked.”
“My attention?” My eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “Try a phone next time, Sawyer.”
He shrugs and walks towards me. “You never gave me your phone number.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and groan. “Hacking my Facebook to accept your friend request and publicly declaring that we’re dating was easier than getting my phone number?”
“I can’t say it was hard.”
I exhale and shake my head. “Is this your office?” I glance around the room again, a little dubious.
“It is.” He’s standing in front of me now, across the desk. He stops and places his hands in his pockets. He’s wearing a suit. Wearing the hell out of the suit, actually. I run my gaze down his body. I don’t try to hide it, because why? There’s no point with this guy. Clearly I can be myself and whatever I throw at him, he’s just going to laugh.
“Are you somebody important here?” I ask, gesturing to the building in general.
“Does it matter? All I want to be is somebody to you.” He says it sincerely, his eyes on mine, his gaze not wavering.
“Your brother is really excited for us, Sawyer,” I say softly, my fight gone. “He thinks I’ve tamed you or some nonsense. Do you need taming?”
“Miss Beverly Cleary Jensen,” he starts, but I interrupt immediately.
“Oh, God. You went that deep? What’d you do, pull my birth certificate? No one calls me Beverly.”
“Your passport. I wanted to make sure you had one.”
“Sure.” I nod. “Totally normal.” I glance around the room again and cross my arms across my chest. I wonder how big a player he is. Swanky office. Attractive as hell. His own brother’s comments, not to mention my brother warning him to stay away from me last weekend. I bet he’s had sex in here, I think, eyeing him again.
“Yes, I’ve had sex in my office,” he says, answering my unasked question. “I wasn’t going to suggest it for our first time together as I’m not sure how loud you are.” He pauses, gesturing outside his office. “Lots of people working out there, but we can give it a try if you want.”
I snort. So fucking confident, this guy. “I bet. I bet women bend right over this desk for you,” I lean forward and place my hands on the desk and drop one shoulder seductively. “I bet they’re all, ‘Oh, Sawyer, it’s so big. I don’t think it’s gonna fit.’ Newsflash for you. They’re lying. It always fits.”