Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“Jinx, you owe me a coffee.”
His smile wiggles wider. “I think we’re both supposed to say it for it to count as a jinx.”
“Work with me here.” He’s very nice looking, smiling and all. Fine, he’s hot when he’s uptight as well, so I seize the moment. “How about tomorrow? You heard Barry. He’ll have my order ready to go.”
His eyebrows knit together, but then they recover. “Are you asking me out?”
“No. I’m collecting a debt.” I twist my lips to the side, tightening the reins on my grin.
Andrew doesn’t bother with the same restraint. A smug smirk practically consumes his stupidly handsome face. “I never leave debts unpaid. Should I prepay Barry now, or do you like to collect your debts in person?”
“Always in person. Don’t want to be stiffed.”
“It’s not so bad being stiff.”
If I had pearls to clutch, I’d do it just for effect. “Oh my, Andrew. Did you just insert a sexual joke into our innocent conversation?”
“Were we not flirting?”
“I have a feeling you never misread a situation.”
He shrugs. The lax gesture doesn’t suit him as well as that designer one does. “I should probably get going.”
“You’re always going.”
“Yeah, duty calls. I should have been there hours ago.”
“What kept you?” Shaking my head, I look down briefly. “Sorry. I tend to ask too many questions.”
“That’s okay. I have one for you. What time do you want your coffee?”
He might be flirting with me this time, but I’m not going to embarrass him by calling him out. “I’m fairly open. What works best for you?”
“Seven thirty. Is that too early?”
“It’s not.” I start to walk away. “See you tomorrow, Andrew.”
He stands still, looking smug as ever, but then his lips part, and he reaches out. “Hey, I didn’t get your name. I want the one you like to be called.”
My cheeks heat. Twice in one day. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this giddy. It’s been longer—going on two years next month—since I’ve even dated. “Juni. I like to be called Juni.”
“See you tomorrow, Juni.”
3
Andrew
Knock. Knock.
I drag my tired eyes from the monitor, my gaze traveling across the large office when my door opens without permission. “I don’t want to be disturbed.”
“You never do,” Nick replies, my brother’s tone light. He’s been like this since he got married two years ago—smiling all the time, whistling for no reason, no tension found in his body. Basically, he’s not like he used to be at all and definitely no longer like me. “Why are you here so late?”
“Because Mom sent me on a mission, and I foolishly played along.”
He chuckles and sits across the desk from me. He’s wise enough not to kick his feet up on my desk. “Oh, yeah? What’s she up to?”
I could cite the three reports I still need to go through tonight, but what’s a few minutes with my brother? I push the keyboard away and lean back in the cushy chair. “That remains to be seen. Right now, she claims it’s having me settle into a new city, but I have a feeling there’s more to it. She didn’t give me a crazy list of things to do in Seattle.”
“Wonder why the sudden focus on your life in New York?”
“I have a hunch—”
“You don’t work off hunches.”
“Typically, but that’s all I have to go off of this time. Ever since you found your one and only, her focus has shifted to me.”
Chuckling, he sits forward. “I’ll be honest, I thought her New Age beliefs were nonsense, that she was traveling down a dead-end street when it came to me. Now I’m a believer.”
“What changed your mind?”
He raises his left hand, and the light from my desk lamp gleams off the metal wrapped around his finger. “I met Natalie.”
“I thought you met her on a drunken weekend in Catalina?”
“That too.”
“I don’t understand.”
He snaps his fingers. “Keep up, brother. She’s not helping you settle into life on the East Coast.”
Rubbing my right temple, I scowl, regretting that I allowed him to come in. “Now I’m completely lost.”
“For the smartest guy I know, you sure are dense sometimes.” He stands and rests his hands on my desk. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he says conspiratorially. “Mom’s matchmaking.”
“No . . .” I tick through the list again—park, perform, Shakespeare, exorcism, and the one that shall not be vocalized or even given a second thought. Arguably, all of them have nothing to do with anyone else other than the fifth and final. “She’s being subtle if that’s her motive.” And how on earth can she do that from California?
“Only time will tell. In the meantime, the last thing I want to do is make her feel like a failure.”
“I know there was no big production in you and Dalen calling things off—”
“Can we not do this?”