Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
She slapped me on my arm this time.
“I lost the charger for it. I need a new one,” she said by way of denial. “Unless you have some magic charger on your person somewhere.”
I pushed the bar on the door and walked through it, not bothering to hold it for my laughing-at-her-own-stupid-joke best friend.
With one final finger wave, I got into my car and started her up.
I drove a 1967 Pontiac GTO, and it was definitely in need of some tender love and care.
However, I didn’t have the time, nor the desire, to fix the bad boy up.
So I drove it with rusted-out floorboards, springs showing in the seats, and a door that barely closed all the way.
The motor, on the other hand, ran perfectly.
Why? Because I had a damn good mechanic—one that’d been with me since that terrible day that I nearly died. The mechanic that had saved my life, and to this day I’d still never met in person.
Seemed he was a night owl, and I never was able to come to his place of business when he was actually in the shop.
I didn’t care, though.
The man fixed my car and made it purr, and I’d never go to another soul purely for that reason.
I was, however, rethinking my choice to drive my car and not take Keisha up on her offer to take me twenty minutes later when I arrived at the large sprawling mansion where the benefit dinner was being held and saw all the other cars.
All the other cars that were black, shiny, and new.
Mine was anything but.
It was old, rusted, and not even the same color paint from one panel of metal to the next.
Hence the reason I parked and walked up myself instead of allowing one of the valets to take it.
Not that I would trust my car with anyone but the mechanic that fixed it, anyway.
I didn’t even let my brothers or Keisha drive it.
The moment I stepped out of the car and got my first good glimpse at the building, I realized that I was in way over my head.
Why I’d allowed my brother to talk me into coming, I didn’t know.
Not when the booger wasn’t even going to make it as my date, anymore.
I’d gotten that pleading call earlier this afternoon, practically begging me to go anyway. If he hadn’t sounded so pitiful over the phone, and given me some damn good puking sounds, I would’ve totally denied him.
Alas, this brother was my favorite sibling—even though I had two siblings—and I’d do damn near anything for him. Well, to be perfectly fair, I loved them both dearly.
Even go to some swanky benefit dinner without him just so I could network for him and his business.
Ready to get this over with and get home so I could crawl into my bed, pantless with half a roll of cookie dough, I started off across the lawn, admiring the pretty lights as I went.
They had one of those light shows pointed down from the trees, making the large, sprawling lawn dance with colored dots to the tune of some sound I couldn’t hear.
I’d just stepped onto the asphalt when I heard someone call my name.
Bradford.
Curse it all, dammit!
“Hi.” I smiled… or grimaced. I wasn’t sure which. At least not until I saw his eyes narrow on my attempted smile.
“Where is your brother at?” he asked.
My brother and Bradford worked together, which made our whole breakup even worse.
See, I was in love with Bradford until he decided to fuck his secretary.
I’d decided to bring my brother and Bradford lunch, and had walked in to an eyeful of Bradford’s balls swinging as he banged his eighteen-year-old secretary on the front office desk.
Needless to say, my brother had felt like shit.
I, on the other hand, had been relieved.
I’d been in over my head with the man, and it was nice to have a reason to break it off without ruining his and my brother’s partnership.
That’s not to say that Bradford didn’t try to get me back at every turn.
It was sad, really, but I wasn’t giving in. Not this time, anyway.
I was glad to have him in my past—where he belonged.
“He’s got the stomach flu,” I told him. “He’s spent the entire afternoon throwing up, and only stopped long enough to call me and tell me he wouldn’t be coming in…” I trailed off as the valet helped Bradford’s date, his eighteen-year-old bride-to-be that was pregnant with his child.
The same one that was still the secretary at their law firm. The same one that thought she was the most supreme being on the planet for getting my man and keeping her job.
When in reality, the only reason she still had her job was because my brother couldn’t find anyone that was willing, or stupid enough, to do the job besides her.