Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 11057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 55(@200wpm)___ 44(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 55(@200wpm)___ 44(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
“Beckett, the kitchen is on fire!” he yells, and that’s when I realize the alarms that I thought were only in my head are in fact blaring through the club.
The music is off and the lights have been turned on and all of the emergency exits are wide open as security moves everyone out.
“Fuck.” I see the smoke coming from the back, and I can hear the fire trucks in the distance.
Turning to face my mystery woman, I can see she’s just as stunned as I am. How did we miss all of this with just one kiss?
“We need you, Beckett!” Burt shouts over the alarms.
“Get her out of here,” I tell Burt, then pull her into my arms for one quick kiss. “Tell me your name.” This time it’s an order, and she doesn't hesitate.
“Emma.”
I look at Burt and push them toward the exit door beside us. “Make sure she gets out of here safe. Do you understand me?”
“I’m on it,” he says as he takes her by the arm and leads her out.
“I’ll find you!” I shout to Emma as she looks over her shoulder one last time before they’re gone into the night.
It’s almost dawn by the time they get the fire in the kitchen put out and have secured the building. I had to stay and talk to law enforcement and make sure that everyone got out safely. Thankfully, there weren’t any injuries with the staff either. We have a small kitchen in the back that serves late-night food, and someone forgot to turn off the grill. It was a simple mistake that just created a shitty domino effect, and now the club has to be closed until the repairs can be made.
There are insurance companies to deal with, construction crews to handle, and a whole mess of other things that I really don’t want to contend with. Not when I can’t get Emma off my mind.
By the time I made it outside, the crowd had been sent home by the firefighters so they could secure the location. Burt said he personally put Emma in a cab, but he didn’t ask where she lived. That doesn’t make it impossible, it only makes finding her take a bit longer than I wanted.
I’m exhausted, but one thing is for certain: I met the one, and there’s not a damn thing in this world that will keep her from me.
Chapter Three
Emma
This morning I’ve got an eight o’clock class that I’m almost late for. I knew going out last night was a gamble, and boy did I roll the dice. Meeting Beckett was insane, but kissing him was out of this world. I’d never felt so wanted before in my entire life, and the look he gave me when I walked away said it was the hardest thing he’d ever have to do.
What the heck am I going to do now? How am I possibly going to learn anything when all I can do is think about his lips on mine?
My professor is lecturing about spreadsheets and data, while I try to take notes and not think about last night. Which is clearly impossible because I notice that I’ve written Beckett’s name in the margin of my notebook. Gah, what am I, like twelve?
As soon as class is over, I grab my bag and check my phone. I see a missed call, and the number makes my stomach drop. I wait until I’m out in the hallway and away from people before I answer.
“Hello.” I glance around as I tuck myself against a window and look out at the quad.
“Hi, Emma, this is Zuri again calling about your immigration status. We’ve got your paperwork for an extension, and I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”
I sigh as I close my eyes and prepare for the worst.
“Since you’ve completed your scholarship and have been denied funds to continue your degree beyond the bachelors, we’re not extending your visa.”
“How long do I have?” I ask, needing to get it over with.
“We’ll email you the exact date, but it will be after graduation. You’ll have until then to make accommodations in your home country.” There’s a pause where she must be waiting for me to say something, but I don’t. “There will be opportunities to reapply in the future if you’re able to get a job in your field.”
I’ve already applied to dozens of jobs, but nobody wants to hire me based on a temporary visa. Even if I got a job, my work visa could be denied and they would have invested all that time in training an employee that they might lose. I’m too much of a risk. At least that’s what they told me at my last interview.
“Thanks,” I mumble, because what else can I say?
“I’ll email over everything now, but if you have any—”