Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“I told you the Pliny Building wasn’t safe.”
“And I told you the Pliny Building is cheap. Get over it.”
“What does the cost matter if you wind up dead?”
“Listen,” I say, “choices were made. I could starve to death and live somewhere nicer or take my chances with the guy in 1B.” The memory of the slimy prick who lives conveniently by the exit, so I must pass him every time I leave the apartment, makes me shiver. “Getting whacked is faster and less depressing, and at least I’d go out on a full stomach.”
She makes a face. “That’s not funny.”
I chuckle, tossing the muffin wrapper on the table. “Relax. I’m kidding.” Kind of.
She blows out a breath, wanting to cling to this conversation. But the look on my face must convince her otherwise.
“I was asking about the meeting this morning because of the gossip going around the building today,” she says. “Did you hear the rumors?”
“I generally try to avoid them.”
“Well, you might want to hear this one.”
I lift a brow.
“The word in accounting is that we’re downsizing, and they’re going to eliminate a bunch of positions soon,” she says, her eyes wide. “Everyone is panicking. And since you’re Jason Brewer’s executive assistant, I thought maybe you had a little insight you could share with your work bestie.”
“You know I’m under a nondisclosure agreement.”
“Yeah, but there are ways you can tell me without telling me. For example, blink one for yes and two for no.”
“No,” I say, laughing.
“No, as in we aren’t downsizing, or no, as in you’re a terrible friend?”
“I can’t tell you anything for certain, but you know how rumors go.”
“Don’t you worry something will go wrong, and we’ll all be jobless?” Nickie asks.
“In theory, of course. But over this? No.”
She stands, smoothing out her skirt. “Walter asked me to give him my stapler this morning. It feels like a sign. Give me your stapler because you won’t need it—you’re out of here. I almost fought him over it, as if possessing office supplies is nine-tenths of employment law.”
I laugh.
“He’s an asshole. He orders me around like I’m a peon. You should’ve heard how he ordered me to give him my stapler.” She pauses dramatically. “That’s a problem for me. Ask, don’t order. I don’t want to give him anything now—not my time, my skills, or my fucking stapler.”
“Sucks to be you.” I grin. “I’d give Jason Brewer whatever he wants.”
Someone clears their throat behind Nickie. I groan, sure that it’s Jake in another attempt at weaseling his way into our conversation. I peer around my friend to send him on his way for a third time but stop.
My irritation fades as my lips part with a one-liner and my gaze focuses on the man in the doorway.
And my embarrassment grows.
It’s not Jake.
Jason stands in the break room entrance like he’s been there a while … long enough to have heard my seven-word sentence.
His sandy-blond hair is sun-kissed to perfection. It’s styled back off his chiseled face, giving me a better view of his bright green eyes and thick, heavy brows pulled together as he watches me … and smirks.
“I’d give Jason Brewer whatever he wants.”
Dark dress pants fit his muscular thighs. A thin brown belt cinches his narrow waist. A crisp white shirt is cuffed at his elbows, displaying the ends of the tattoos etched into his upper arms that peek out the bottom of the sleeves.
My God.
I melt in front of him in a mix of surprise, concupiscence, and deep, deep mortification from being overheard.
Nickie fights a laugh. “I’ll talk to you later, Chloe.” She turns for the door, smiling cheekily. “Good morning, Mr. Brewer. How are you today?”
He nods, never taking his eyes off me. “It’s been an interesting day so far.”
She laughs. “So it has. Have a good one.”
“You too,” he says, crossing one ankle over the other. His lips twist in amusement.
“So,” I say once my traitorous friend abandons me and leaves the two of us alone. Despite the look in his eyes, I try to exude cool, calm confidence. “How long were you standing there?”
He holds my gaze for a moment, then two. Finally, he presses away from the doorway.
“Chloe, may I see you in my office for a moment?”
Shit.
Chapter 2
Chloe
Three … Four … Five … Six …
The elevator dings, and the doors open to the executive level.
A rush of sandalwood-scented air floats into the lift and guides me onto dark hardwood. An oversized desk anchors the space, and a copper-colored airplane hangs from the ceiling by an invisible wire. It’s classy with a touch of fun.
“Did you get your muffin?” Brandi asks from behind the desk.
“Is that a serious question?”
She laughs. “Jason came up a few seconds ago and said not to let you get distracted. You’re to go straight to his office.”