Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Anyway, thanks again,” she says, not noticing me checking her out, and I realize she’s about to walk away.
“Whoa, wait.” I reach out and snag her wrist, and she stumbles again as she tries to turn too quickly. “Do you need to take those off?” The smile that tugs at my lips feels unfamiliar, like it’s been a long time since I’ve done it.
“It’s part of the uniform.” She huffs and shrugs. “I tried to tell them, but I don’t think they believed me.” She bites that juicy red lip, and for a second I wish I could do that for her.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I clear my throat and try again. “What’s your name?”
“Lux.” She smiles and cocks her head to the side like we’re old friends. “You?”
“I’m Bastian.” I hold out my hand because I’m used to introducing myself that way, but really what I want to do is hug her.
“Oh, like short for Sebastian?”
“Kind of. It’s just Bastian, though. I think my mom thought it would make me seem tough.” She puts her hand in mine, and she’s so soft and warm. When was the last time I felt something this soft? Maybe never.
“Nah, not with that smile.” She squeezes my hand and then lets it go like we didn’t just share the most important moment in my life.
“Anyway, I need to get back to the kitchen.” She points her thumb over her shoulder and begins to back away.
“Maybe I should wait here,” I offer as I straighten. “Just in case.” I reach down and grab the tray she was holding and see there’s already someone from the cleaning crew coming down the hall.
“You can be my personal safety net.” She winks before she turns around and walks away.
“Fuck me,” I whisper.
“Excuse me, sir?” the cleaner asks, and I shake my head.
“I said thank you.” And then I bend down to help him clear up the spilled tray.
Chapter Five
Lux
Was I flirting with him? What the heck has gotten into me? I’m working at a job that I need to keep. This one is paying out the ass, which it should be since we have to wear these ridiculous outfits.
Bastian caught me completely off guard when I fell into his arms and even more so by how charming he was. For one brief moment I thought the world stopped and it was only the two of us staring at each other in that dark hallway.
I hurry to the back because I need a moment of space to get it together. These freaking heels don’t make it easy, and on top of that my heart is racing. The feel of his hands on me still lingers. There was no way he was just being polite, not with that smile. Excitement bubbles up inside of me at the possibility, but I shake the thought.
He was only being nice, and I’m sure part of him felt sorry for me. Compared to all the other women, I stand out and not only because I’m wobbling around in heels. Still, he is different from the rest of the men I’ve seen here tonight. The biggest difference being he isn't old enough to be my grandpa. He also didn’t have a bunny in his lap until I threw myself at him.
“Again?” I come up short before pushing open the back door to the kitchen. Matthew is staring at my empty tray with a look of irritation on his face.
“I’m sorry. I’m normally great with a tray, but these shoes are throwing me off.” The outfit too, but I don’t say it because I don’t want him to hear me complain. Or draw attention to it. I’m still surprised they were able to get the thing on me, but it did take two of the girls to zip me up. And if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, everyone keeps looking at me like they’re just as shocked as I am it hasn’t burst open.
“If it happens again, you’re out for the night.” I nod in understanding as he steps out of the way so I can go into the kitchen.
“He’s a dick.” Ella winks at me as she walks by, obviously having heard Matthew and me.
I’m jealous of how easily she can walk in her heels. She was one of the girls to help me get into my uniform when almost everyone else turned their noses up at me. I heard one call me a country bumpkin.
“Hey, new girl,” one of the other bunnies calls. She’s leaning up against the counter as one of the cooks fills her tray with appetizers. “Let me give you some free advice. Stick to the older ones.” Her eyes sharpen as she raises her chin. “But stay clear of mine.”
I’m not sure which one was hers, but that’s not going to be a problem at all. “Thanks,” I say, because I have no idea how else to respond to that. I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, and speaking of toes, mine might fall off.