Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“I’ll see what I can do,” she mutters, picking up the coffee I set down and taking a sip. “Why don’t you go get lunch while I make a few calls? When you get back, I’ll go over what you have so far for the show tomorrow.”
My muscles relax. “Sure, would you like anything from the deli?”
“I think you’ve noticed I survive on coffee most days.”
“In that case, I’ll bring you a sandwich,” I say, gaining a smile before I turn for the door.
Going to my desk, I grab my purse, slip off my heels, and put on my flats then head for the elevator. Once I reach the lobby floor and head out of the building, I unconsciously look down at my wrist and frown when I notice in the corner a tiny red light is blinking slowly. Walking quickly to the deli at the end of the block, I head right for the bathroom, where I take the watch off and drop it in the trash next to the sink. After washing my hands, I leave the bathroom feeling lighter.
I walk two more blocks to another deli and go to the counter, where I order a turkey and Swiss on rye and take a seat in the back of the restaurant. I pull out my phone and pull up my messages, ignoring the ones from Braxton and responding to Jamie’s text about dinner.
“Did you lose something?” a familiar deep voice asks as the seat in front of me scrapes against the floor, and I look up then watch Braxton fold his large frame into the small chair. Then he drops the watch on the table between us.
“No,” I mumble, looking back down at my phone when it vibrates with an incoming text from Jamie saying he’ll bring dinner to my place around six.
I start to text him back, but Braxton’s fingers move to my jawline pressing up until my eyes meet his. “I want you to wear the watch.”
“I don’t want to wear your tracking device,” I tell him with a shrug as my heartbeat picks up. “That’s what it is, right?” I mean, I’m not sure, but that’s the only thing I can think it might be.
“I don’t need to track you, Dakota. You live in my building.” He leans across the table closer to me, and my heart that was already thumping hard begins to pound. “You work for my company. I know almost everything about you. You can’t avoid me.”
“What do you want from me?”
“A chance,” he says easily as his thumb runs along the edge of my bottom lip. My eyes slide to half-mast and I lean into his touch. “You can’t deny our connection.”
Swallowing, I pull away from him and sit back in my chair, unsure how he has the power to make me forget everything with a simple touch. I look away from him and wrap my arms around my middle. He’s right; I can’t deny our connection. It’s like a living, breathing thing that’s taken on a life of its own. “A chance to what… lie to me some more?” I shake my head. “No, thank you.”
“I wanted to tell you the truth.”
“You should have told me the truth. You could have told me the truth.” I uncross my arms and point at him. “You chose to lie to me.”
“You’re right.” He leans back and runs his fingers through his hair. “You’re right; I should have told you, but I didn’t, because I saw what I wanted and wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of me getting it—including you.”
Again. Seriously? “You cannot be believed.”
“Tell me this.” He sits forward, resting his elbows on the table. “If I told you when you came up to me on the street that I wasn’t Adam, would you have let me take you to dinner?”
Of course not.
Maybe.
Crap, I honestly don’t know. Instead of answering his question, I ask, “Who is Hanna?”
“No one.”
I raise a brow. “Kathy made it seem like she’s someone to you.”
“She’s Kathy’s niece. We went out a few times. It was never serious.”
“And you work with her?” I prompt, because I know Kathy said she was on his trip with him.
I watch him closely to see if he’s lying—not that I would know if he is or not. “We do work together, she’s my assistant.” He looks down at my sandwich and pushes it closer to me. “Eat.”
My nose wrinkles, not because I don’t want to eat, but because he’s telling me to. “Don’t annoy me by telling me what to do right now.”
“If I remember correctly, you like me telling you what to do,” he says in a tone that makes my skin seem to vibrate and my toes curl.
I pick up my sandwich and take a bite just for something to do, and he chuckles. After I chew and swallow, I wipe my mouth with my napkin and go back to the topic of Hanna, unwilling to let the subject go. Not because of the jealousy that’s building in the pit of my stomach, but because I just want to know. “It must be awkward working with your ex.”