Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
The dinner rush hit with a delightful chaos that I thrived in. I didn’t have a second to stop and think or catch my breath, which I loved. No time to think meant no time to agonize if I was doing good enough or if I’d ever reach a moment in time where I didn’t have to question if I was doing good enough.
“Anne,” a familiar voice sounded behind me after I finished refilling one of my table’s waters.
I spun around with a smile on my face.
“Brad,” I said. “What brings you in here tonight?”
Our hostess settled him at a two-top table in my section, heading off to wait on the next customers. “I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d swing by and grab something to eat.”
“Don’t lie,” I teased. “You came in here to see if I’d give you free food.”
“I would never,” he said, holding his hand over his heart. Dressed in a simple pair of slacks and a blue button-down, he looked no less done up than he had in his ten-thousand-dollar suit. Still, there was this sense of relatability and trustworthiness to him that made me genuinely happy to see him. “I came here to eat and chat with a friend.”
I looked around, wondering where his friend was, and he laughed, drawing my attention back to him by gently grabbing my hand. “You,” he said, shaking his head.
“Oh,” I said, laughing at how ridiculous I must’ve looked.
“Damn,” he said, releasing me. “You weren’t joking about not having a real friend in a long time.”
“I told you I’d be honest,” I said. “No matter how sad it was.”
“Not sad,” he said. “Just…”
“Sad,” I said, and we both laughed again. “Want me to order for you?” I asked, leaning down and lowering my voice. “I happen to know the chef.”
“Please do,” he said.
I patted his shoulder and spun around, ready to put the special in as his order, only to be stopped in my tracks by a very surly looking Jim in full uniform.
“Whoa,” I said, hurrying over to him where he lingered by the hostess station. The muscle in his jaw tensed, his full beard doing nothing to hide it and everything to make him look even more intimidating as his eyes locked somewhere behind me. I followed his gaze, noting he was staring at Brad. “Is there an emergency, Officer Harlowe?” I asked.
He blinked a few times, focusing on me. “No,” he grumbled. “I’m picking up food for Ridge. Guys’ night.”
“Oh, that sounds fun,” I said, noting he kept glaring behind me.
“Who was that you were laughing with?” he asked, and I arched a brow at him.
“That’s Brad,” I answered. “He’s a friend.” Wow. That felt incredibly good to say. He wasn’t an acquaintance or a connection or a fake-ass friend who only wanted to be with me because of my parent’s money.
“He was holding your hand.”
“He was not!” I chided him, shaking my head. “Not like that, anyway. It was a friendly gesture. Honestly, you sound jealous.” But that couldn’t be right, because he’s the one who acted like our kiss didn’t mean anything all day.
“Of a suit?” he asked, a playfulness returning to his eyes as he focused on me again. The hostess brought up his to-go order and he gathered it. “Not a chance.”
My lips parted, but he spun around and headed out without another word.
Well, then. That was fine. That was fair.
But damn, if we kept up this hot and cold back-and-forth, it was going to be a long six weeks.
CHAPTER 6
Jim
I stared at the picture frames I had on my desk, the only two I had, and allowed myself sit with a heavy heart. One was of my mom, who I lost a few years ago. One was of my dad, who I lost when I was a kid.
Normally I could work with them looking at me and not feel the slightest hint of sadness, but it was always harder when Thanksgiving was close. It was the one holiday my mother cherished, the one she loved more than Christmas, and each one without her was tough.
“Training went well today,” Anne said, jostling me out of my memories.
I shifted in my seat, nodding as I shut down my computer. “They’re doing good.”
“You’re a good teacher,” she said, stacking some papers in a pile and setting them on my desk. “These are all graded and inputted into the system like you asked.”
“Thanks,” I said, giving her a smile. We’d been working together for a week straight now and we’d fallen into this incredibly normal rhythm of being around each other. She’d never brought up the kiss, so I kept my mouth shut about it too. I’m sure she regretted it or maybe she didn’t think it was a big deal since it had happened because we traveled a little too far down memory lane.