Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
I open it, tossing aside the mustache glasses, Chinese finger traps, whoopee cushion, squirting ring, nail through finger, and electric shock buzzer, coming up with the itching powder. I take it out and close the box, replacing it on the top shelf.
I’ll show that asshat professionalism!
The next day, I get up, shower, and dress in a gorgeous royal blue wrap dress that I pair with a slim-fitting, tailored white blazer, since the dress is sleeveless. I quickly tuck the itching powder into my purse before the kids see it.
I make my way over to his dry cleaners, which is on the other side of town. Once I walk in, I give them his name and phone number, and collect his clothes.
There are about five suit jackets, ten pants, and twenty-five shirts. I have to walk to the car twice.
Once I’m inside the car, I open my purse and climb into the backseat.
I grab all his pants, taking one at a time, unfolding them neatly, and opening and sprinkling some powder in the crotch area, then pressing the legs together to rub it in a bit. I repeat this until all his pants are done.
I smile to myself, but then my phone rings, startling me as the sound fills the car, causing me to jump as I bobble the bottle. It goes flying, landing on the floor near my foot. I let out a little yelp as I kick it away.
I peek at my phone and see that it’s him.
“Hello?”
“Where are you? Why aren’t you here?”
“Where am I? Did you not tell me to go get your clothes from the cleaners this morning? The cleaners that, mind you, is half way to Guatemala,” I return tartly while climbing back into the front seat and starting up the car. “I’m on my way. What do I do with your clothes?” I ask him as I start making my way to work.
“What do you think you do with them? You bring them up!” he replies smartly.
“Bring them up? It took me two trips to get them all in the car. Are you even dressed?” I ask, merging on the highway. “What do you need for the meeting? I can bring up what you need, and then when I leave later, you can come down and get them from my car.”
“Ugh,” I hear him groan. “Okay, fine. Bring me up my black suit,” he says and hangs up. He doesn’t have to say anything, because the car lets me know, “Phone call disconnected.”
Asshole.
Once I get to work, I slide open the back door and look for his black suit, except almost all the suits are some shade of black. Fuck. Grabbing what I hope is a matching jacket and pants, I walk into my office building.
Looking at my watch, I see that it’s already nine a.m. Once I get to the floor and the door opens, I see Steven at the reception desk talking to Carmen.
“Good morning, guys,” I say, smiling to them while I fold Asshat’s suit over my arm.
Steven smiles at me shyly. “Morning. You’re late this morning. Is everything okay?” he asks.
“Oh yeah.” I point to the dry cleaning. “Had to get his laundry.”
“Right. Are you staying in for lunch?” Steven asks. I shake my head no.
“I’m actually thinking of going to this restaurant around the corner. They have little tables outside. And it’s beautiful today,” I say.
“That sounds delightful,” Steven says “What time are you going?”
“Probably around noonish.”
“Would you like some company?” He puts his hands in his pockets. It’s the same move that Austin uses, except with Steven it doesn’t fit.
“I would love some company. I’ll call you when I’m ready,” I say to him and then walk down the hall to my desk, dumping my purse on it before I walk to his office.
Seeing that the door is closed, I knock and wait for him to tell me to come in.
I open the door and see him behind his desk, eyes on the computer while he types away.
“Here is your dry cleaning. Where do you want it?” I ask him.
“Just put it over the back of the couch and check your email. There are a couple of things that need scheduling; also, we have the grand opening for the club in three weeks. You need to attend with me.”
“Which day?” I ask, trying to pull up my calendar in my head, hoping that I don’t have anything.
“You have all of that in your emails. Now, if you’re done asking me insignificant questions, you can go,” he dismisses me, not once looking at me. “And because you were late today, you are going to have to eat lunch here.”
“I wasn’t late. I was running an errand for you. Besides, I have plans at lunch.”
“Don’t care. Change them.” I’m about to tell him to suck a dick when Barbara knocks on the door and walks in.