Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“I think I’ll put that on my match.com profile. Looking for a well-educated, handsome, financially secure man who isn’t afraid of commitment or getting up close and personal with my vagina.”
The waiter came by and opened our second bottle of wine. He poured two glasses, and Madison didn’t bother waiting until he was out of earshot before lifting her glass in toast. “To cunnilingus.”
I clicked my glass to hers. Maybe it was the topics we’d just burrowed through, but I found myself thinking… I bet Bennett would take pride in pleasing a woman, not limit going down on her to once a year.
***
I’d intentionally booked a different flight than my counterpart. Our assistant had asked if I wanted to travel with him, and even though I would’ve preferred to take the seven a.m. flight he’d already been booked on, I chose to take an eight thirty shuttle up to L.A. Our meeting wasn’t until one, and it was only an hour-and-a-half flight, but I liked to be early. Now I looked up at the big board and regretted making a business decision based on anything other than business. My flight was pushed back to eleven, and I’d be cutting it close to get to the meeting on time. Meanwhile, Bennett was probably taxiing right about now. Damn it.
I took my time at the Hudson News, perusing the latest bestsellers since I was going to have a few extra hours of sitting around. Settling on a popular women’s book about learning to accept who you are, I headed down to the gate to read. Only when I arrived, almost every seat in the boarding area was taken. I figured the flight before me hadn’t started its boarding yet. When I looked up at the sign over the check-in desk, I realized that’s exactly what it was, only the earlier flight was the one that had been scheduled to take off at seven to L.A.—Bennett’s flight.
I glanced around the waiting area, but didn’t see him.
“Looking for someone?” a low voice rumbled from behind me, and hot breath tickled my neck.
I jumped forward, dropped the bag with my book, and almost tripped over my own carry-on luggage. But a large hand gripped my hip and steadied me.
“Easy. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
My hand flew to cover my rapidly beating heart.
“Bennett. What the hell? Don’t sneak up on a person like that.”
“Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”
I smoothed down my blouse and bent to pick up my book, which had come out of its bag. “Shouldn’t you be on the other side of the terminal if you saw me standing here?”
Bennett ran his fingers through his hair. “Probably.” He plucked the hardcover book from my hands as I attempted to stash it back in the plastic bag. “But apparently it’s a good thing I’m here.” He read the cover of my purchase. “You Do You. What is this? A self-help book on masturbation?”
I snatched it back and tucked it into the bag. “No. What it is is none of your business.”
“Boy, you’re cranky. I think you really need that book.”
“It’s a book about accepting who you are and not worrying about what everyone else thinks about you, if you really must know.”
He smirked. “That’s a shame. What I thought it was about would be a hell of a lot more interesting.”
“What’s going on with your flight? Do you know what the delay is about?”
“Weather delay in L.A., something about high winds. All the flights are backed up. Originally they said a forty-minute delay; now it’s up to two hours.”
“I was booked on the eight thirty. Mine’s pushed two and a half. I better see if they can get me on your flight.”
After a twenty-minute wait in line, the best they could give me was standby. Bennett was leaning against a pillar, scrolling through his phone when I returned.
“I’m waitlisted. Not sure I’ll get on.”
He winked. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it for us if you aren’t able to get there. I’ll relay what the client’s looking for when I get back.”
“Yeah. That’s a great idea. I’ll rely on what you come back with to prepare a pitch for a client you don’t want me to win.”
“Looks like you might not have a choice.”
I looked at the time on my phone—a few minutes after seven. It was a five-and-a-half-hour drive up to L.A. If I left now, I’d have six hours to get back home and get there. “I’m going to drive.”
“What? It’s over three-hundred miles.”
I picked up my bags. “I can make it. It’s better than sitting here for two more hours only to find out I can’t get on the earlier flight and then missing the meeting.”
Bennett looked at me like I had two heads. “It’ll take you an hour to even get back home with rush hour traffic now.”