Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Bellamy laughs. “I know, right? Readers love the mystery. Never underestimate the value of speculation.”
I’ve been wondering too. Who is the man behind the texts? I never got his name the day I chatted with him over vanilla celebration cake. And I haven’t asked his name yet. Maybe because I didn’t want to break the spell of the flirting this morning. But for the longest time I’ve wondered who he is, and now I’m on the cusp of finding out.
It feels right.
Like it’s finally time.
After the interview, I’m definitely going to ask his name. He’s given me plenty of clues today that he’s interested, including his very obvious big dictionary remark.
Yup, if I get the job, I’m going to reward myself by asking him out. Bet he tastes better than cake. A date will be a delicious end to the week from hell.
“I’m glad they’re enjoying the column even more,” I say, giving my full focus to Bellamy rather than my post-interview plans.
“They are. And we can pay a little extra if you can answer some questions from readers. You can do it on Twitter or Instagram. Whatever works for you, but there are all sorts of questions on your column, so it might be fun to interact with readers. I think it’ll make the next one you write even more popular.”
She gives me the amount, and it’s coffee change, but I’ll happily take it. “I’d love to. And what do you want for the next column?”
“Readers like your fantasy columns the best. I would love another one like that. Top ten things you want to do in bed would probably light up the socials.”
It might light up my pants too. “I’m in,” I say as I finish the call.
Then, I take my boy home and say goodbye to my pets.
It’s time for the interview.
As I sail downstairs, I remind myself to rein in my sarcasm, my love of naughty puns, and, hmm, well now, anything about the ten things I want to do in bed.
Along the way to the flower shop, I review my knowledge of tulips, lilies, peonies, then all the upcoming special occasions that call for flowers, then my ideas for catchy ways to promote florals as the perfect gift.
But as I head down Sixth Avenue, I feel a little unfinished. Maybe it’s because of my last text with the guy who saved my lucky earrings.
I had to jump, and I might have left him hanging. That’s not good if I plan to ask him out as my reward.
I’ll just send one more quick message, maybe even tease at the whole what’s your name thing. I click open the thread and type.
* * *
Veronica: By the way, now that I’ve learned you have jewelry-fixing skills, I think I’ll call you Sir Good With His Hands.
* * *
But that’s a little long for a name in my text app, so I decide to call him . . . well, him. He’s the OG crush, after all, so it works.
As I turn onto Seventh Avenue, a text hits my phone.
* * *
Him: Was Sir Great With His Hands taken?
* * *
Veronica: ’Fraid so. You could be Sir Best With His Hands, but it just doesn’t roll off the tongue the same way.
* * *
Him: Rolling off the tongue is important.
* * *
Gah. This is going so well. I can’t wait to ask him out.
* * *
Veronica: It’s truly a vital skill.
* * *
Him: One that must be practiced . . . daily.
* * *
I glance around the street like someone might see me blushing from the naughtiness on my phone. I want to fan myself, but maybe I shouldn’t risk turning up the temperature before I interview for a job. Reluctantly, I shift gears.
* * *
Veronica: By the way, I’m wearing the earrings. I am feeling all the good luck vibes.
* * *
Him: Good. I hope your appointment goes well.
* * *
I wrack my brain for a response as I pass a cute coffee shop, but before I can compose one, three dots appear on the screen. Oh! He’s a double texter. I might swoon right now.
* * *
Him: Incidentally, you have a nickname too.
* * *
Veronica: Don’t keep it to yourself. Sharing is caring.
* * *
Him: It’s not earth-shatteringly original, but it is apropos. Miss Cute Devil Butt ☺︎
* * *
I groan, but I’m laughing too as I write back.
* * *
Veronica: I will never live that down.
* * *
Him: Nor should you. Since there’s no way I could ever forget the sight of your butt in those undies. It made my Monday.
* * *
I’m giddy as I near my destination. I’m officially sure Trudy’s owner is into me too.
* * *
Veronica: You have to stop making me blush immediately. I have to do this job interview now, and I can’t be thinking of The Day I Flashed Sir Greatest With His Hands.