Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Dennis had never said anything like that to me before, and he certainly would never have fixed me a plate of all my favorite foods.
So, fuck it, even if it was fake, I was going to enjoy the hell out of this.
“Where did you say you met Marla, Craig?” Ava asked, looking at the couple on their right.
“I picked her up at a bar downtown,” Craig said. He was about Brad’s age and wore a three-piece suit, which looked a tad out of place where the rest of us were dressed casually. “Not all of us can have classic love stories,” he continued before shoveling more food into his mouth. “But we do all right, don’t we, babe?”
His wife, Marla, pursed her lips in a tight smile. “Yep.” She nibbled on some fruit, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.
“If you let my firm invest in your company,” Craig continued, eyes on Ezra. “We’d be able to get your app into foreign markets. That’s where the real profits are.”
Ah, so this was the other investor vying for Ezra and Ava’s attention. He definitely wasn’t being subtle about it either.
Ezra shifted in his chair. “This is breakfast,” he said, motioning to his food. “Not a business meeting.”
Ava smiled at him, tucking into her food.
I did the same, doing my best not to moan at the flavors. Whoever catered the event was absolutely crushing it.
“What did they put in these pancakes?” I asked after taking another bite. “It’s like fluffy heaven.”
Ezra laughed, leaning forward. “Sweet cream.”
“Really?”
“Her favorite.” He motioned to his wife. “I asked the chef to prepare them that way.”
Ava ran her hand over his back. “You’re too good to me.”
Ezra shrugged. “Never.”
“I love it,” I said, taking another bite. I’d have to tell Lyla about these and beg her to recreate them when we got back.
“Yes,” Craig said a little aggressively. “It really is delicious.”
“I’m more of a biscuit guy,” Brad said.
Ezra laughed. “I hear you,” he said. “Have you ever tried the Biscuit Company in Charleston?”
“Oh, they’re the best,” Brad said. “I usually take home a dozen even after eating a full meal there.”
“Same,” Ezra said.
“Biscuits are nice,” Craig said, leaning forward to catch Ezra’s eye.
I got secondhand embarrassment watching him force his way into every conversation just to get the owner’s attention. I mean, yeah, I understood he was trying to land a deal, but come on. Who would respond to such fake aggression?
I knew Brad and I weren’t technically engaged, but at least Brad was being a hundred percent real and himself in every other facet.
After an hour of more casual chitchat between us and more forced business comments from Craig, Ezra finally threw his hands up.
“Okay, okay,” he said to Craig. “I get it. You want some serious time with us.”
Craig’s eyes lit up at that.
“I’m guessing you do too?” Ezra asked Brad, who looked more interested in his coffee than anything at that moment. It almost made me laugh. “Though you haven’t been breathing down my neck about it.”
I did laugh at that one.
“Of course, I do,” Brad answered. “I just enjoy a business-free breakfast as much as the next person.”
Ezra nodded, looking between Brad and Craig. “Okay, well I have a deal for you. The company is going to participate in a city scavenger hunt today. If one of my employees wins, then they’ll get the custom prize of an all-expenses paid vacation. But, if one of you win, I’ll raffle off that vacation so one of my employees still gets it, and your prize will be an hour of uninterrupted time with us to give us your full pitch, a whole week sooner than our already scheduled time that I made when I invited you both here.” He eyed Craig. “I wanted you here for the retreat to learn about my company before you make your pitch, but it seems like some of you feel like you already know what you need to.”
“Oh, hell yes!” Craig said. “You’re going down, Washbrook!” He jabbed a finger toward Brad, using a tone that sounded like he was about twelve years old.
Wow.
Well, I wasn’t going to let him get away with that.
“What are the rules?” I asked.
“I’ll text you everything,” he said, and I slid my phone across the table so we could exchange numbers.
Once he texted the requirements—which were extensive and looked like so much fun—I hurried to pocket my phone, pushing away from the table and reaching for Brad.
“What are we doing?” he asked, taking my hand.
“We’re going to go win you that hour,” I said, then winked at Ezra before we hurried out of the banquet hall.
“Shit!” Craig grumbled behind us, and I laughed as I heard him struggling to get Marla away from her coffee.
“Come on!” I urged Brad when he was dragging his feet.