Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“You work for a hot-as-sin guy. He’s rude and brawny, and to be honest, I bet he wants you. And you come in telling me it’s been fine?” She throws her hands up.
I turn to her and shrug. “Well, it has been. And why would he like me?” I walk away, filling more drink orders.
“Because you’re hot. He’s hot. You got a hot office romance thing going on. My favorite trope.”
I roll my eyes and slide three tequila shots across the bar. “I wouldn’t consider myself hot, but what we look like has nothing to do with it. I’m his employee. Not going there. Plus, I’m not into arrogant jerks who get off on talking down to people.”
“I don’t know. I find all that aggression sexy. I bet he’s totally dominant in the bedroom.”
“Mindy.”
“You know it’s true. A beast in the workplace, a beast in the bedroom.” She laughs, and I whip her shoulder with a bar towel.
“Isn’t it a lady in the streets, freak in the—gross, it doesn’t matter. I don’t even wanna think about that.”
“Bullshit. Oh, Mr. Monroe, I jammed the copier. I think you need to spank me—”
“Mindy!”
“Come on, you know it would be super hot.”
“Doubt it.”
“Liar.”
“He’s an egotistical jerk. I bet he goes home and beats off to stock numbers and financial reports.”
“Maybe you should ask him.”
I release an unladylike snort. “No!”
“Why not?”
“What, am I just supposed to walk up to him and be like, ‘Hey, boss, just curious. Do you enjoy whips and chains and whacking it to the Dow Jones?’”
“No, you prude. Ask him what he’s into. Maybe you two have things in common.”
“That’s a hard no.”
“You’ll never know if you don’t ask.”
“And I never will because I don’t care to know!” I take an order while Mindy follows me down the bar.
“Lame. Is he married?”
“I have no idea.”
“Did you see a ring on his finger?”
I stop and turn, bumping into her. “Mindy, I’m not looking at his fingers.” Or his very large hands. “I’m done with this conversation.”
“Just saying, maybe you should ask.”
“Maybe you should start doing your job. The bar is really full.”
“Hmmm, maybe. Well, is he single then?”
“Oh my god! Enough.”
“Fine. You win. Shots?”
“No, I have to work tomorrow.”
“Just one. Please?”
“No.”
“One?”
Ugh! “Fine, only one.”
I hate Mindy. I hate Mindy. I hate Mindy.
“Morning! Glad to see you made it to day three,” Amy says as I walk into the office. “You already beat out half the contestants before you—wow, are you okay?”
Ugh. Far from it. One shot, my ass. My stomach is sketchy, and I’m running on four hours of sleep. “Yeah, just tired. Is there a prize at the end of this? Do I get a cookie if I make it to day four?”
Amy chuckles into her coffee. “No. Just a paycheck and bragging rights. Have a good day. He just got in. Seems to be in a decent mood.”
“Thanks.” I wave and trek down the hallway to his office, taking a slow sip of my triple-shot iced coffee I expect to bring me back to life. I should have known better. One shot doesn’t mean just one when it comes to Mindy. That one shot opens the floodgates to a second and third; the next thing you know, the bar top has become a dance floor. I really need to grow up.
I reach my desk as Theo’s office door opens. Shifting my purse strap onto my shoulder, I open my mouth to greet him when I trip. “Morning—shit.” I stumble over my feet, tossing my iced coffee forward. My eyes widen as I track its flight, stopping once it smacks into Theo’s chest, exploding all over his fancy suit.
“Oh my God. . .” Holy shit that did not just happen. “I’m so sorry.” Theo remains motionless, his arms raised. “I don’t know what just happened. I was walking then—” I shut up because his look of shock and surprise morphs into murder. “Here, let me help. . .” I brush off the ice cubes stuck to his suit coat. “It’s not that bad.” It’s so bad. Why did he have to wear a white shirt today? “Just a little. . .” I wipe my palms up and down his chest like that’s going to make it go away. “Honestly, it doesn’t look that—”
His hands thrust out, latching around my wrists. “Enough,” he snaps.
“I’m—okay.” He drops my wrists, and I step back. Spinning on his heel, he storms into his office, throws open another door and enters a private bathroom. Without closing it, he tears off his suit coat and unbuttons his shirt. “I can try—”
“Stop talking,” he bites out.
“Yep.”
He removes his shirt, and I almost choke on my tongue. Jesus almighty. It should be illegal to look like that. Tan, muscles for days, and that happy trail. . . meow. I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Maybe your wife can get the stain out?” I squeeze my eyes shut, praying that question didn’t really come out of my mouth. I must still be drunk. Fucking Mindy. I open them as Theo reappears in a new shirt, shoving his coffee-drenched clothes into my chest.