We Shouldn’t Read Online Vi Keeland

Categories Genre: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
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But she looks so damn vulnerable.

“Listen. I already put my thoughts out there about this guy saying he needed a break. So I’m pretty sure you don’t want to hear what I have to say…but be careful.”

“Be careful about what?”

“Men. In general. We can come off as nice guys when we’re really dicks.”

She looked confused. “Why don’t you just spit out what you’re trying to say, Bennett?”

“You won’t fault me for being honest?”

She squinted at me. Yep. She’s going to fault me for being honest. But now I’d opened my damn mouth and was stuck, so screw it.

“I’m just saying…don’t let him take advantage of you. He asked you to meet him for dinner at a hotel for a reason. Unless he’s telling you he made a huge mistake and wants you back, don’t hop into bed with him. Listen carefully to the words he chooses. Saying he misses you isn’t committing to jack shit and might just be to lower your defenses and raise your skirt.”

Annalise stared at me. Her face had been blotchy from crying, but red started to fill in the white spots. She’s pissed.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

I raised my hands in surrender. “Just looking out for you.”

“Do me a favor and don’t.” She stood. “I’ll have the copy to you in an hour or two. Is there anything else you need?”

I could take a hint. Standing, I buttoned my jacket. “Actually, yeah. Maybe you can talk to Finley about removing the stick up her ass and coming to me if she has a problem, rather than marching over to Human Resources. We’re a team now—all on the same side.”

She pursed her lips. “Fine.”

I walked to the door and put my hand on the knob before turning back. I never could leave well enough alone. “Also, I’d prefer that copy in an hour, rather than two.”

Chapter 12

* * *

Bennett

I needed to see the client.

That’s what I kept telling myself anyway. It had been six months since I’d met with Green Homes, and they were solid. So a quick pop-in visit on my way home tonight wasn’t out of the ordinary. The fact that they were located downtown, two blocks from the Royal Hotel, just happened to be a coincidence.

And the parking garages were always full in this area. So it wasn’t unusual that I’d parked in one three blocks away and had to walk right past the Royal after my meeting ended.

At six o’clock in the evening.

My schedule had been full during the earlier part of the day, mostly.

I wasn’t much of a believer in coincidence. I was more of an actions-make-things-happen kind of guy. But the fact that I was standing in front of the Royal Hotel—pure chance.

A fluke.

Happenstance.

Whatever.

Opening the door leading to the lobby? Now that, that wasn’t coincidence. That shit was morbid curiosity.

I looked around the atrium, intentionally positioned behind a wide marble column so I could look things over without too many people seeing me. It was pretty quiet for early evening. To the left was the check-in area. One customer stood being helped while a few employees milled around behind the long counter. To the right was an empty bank of elevators. Straight across, on the other side of a large, circular fountain, was the lobby bar. A dozen or so people sat around. I scanned for her face.

Nothing.

She’d left the office at four thirty, so she must be here by now. Hopefully she was inside the restaurant ordering expensive shit from the menu, compliments of the douchebag, and not suckered up to a room upstairs.

Annalise’s screwed-up relationship was none of my business. I should have turned around and left. I didn’t really care if she got screwed over.

Coincidence.

Morbid curiosity.

Those were the reasons I’d stepped foot into the lobby. And the reason I walked toward the bar, rather than hauling ass out the front door?

I’m thirsty. Why can’t I have a drink?

The bar was L-shaped. I sat in the far corner against the wall so that liquor bottles and the fancy old antique cash register blocked me from most people who happened to walk into the lobby. I had a clear shot at the restaurant doors, though. The bartender set a napkin down in front of me. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll take a beer. Whatever you have on tap is fine.”

“You got it.”

When he returned, he asked if I wanted to see a menu. I didn’t, so he nodded and started to walk away until I stopped him.

“Any chance you saw a blonde?” I motioned with both hands to my head. “A lot of wavy blonde hair. Ivory skin. Big blue eyes. If she was with a man, I’m guessing he looked like she was out of his league.”

The bartender nodded. “He had a Mister Rogers sweater on. She was taller in those heels.”


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