Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
“I’m not dying or anything. I just have a talkative stomach.” Am I really making excuses for my stomach? What is it about this guy that has me saying all these weird things?
“I’m starving.” He stares at me. Is he thinking about my legs over his shoulders again? Is that why he’s starving? My entire body heats with the thought of his head between my thighs. “Is your mind in the gutter, Pepper? I thought you had a boyfriend.”
“What? My mind isn't anywhere. The only thing I’m thinking about is that I want extra cheese.”
“Who is this?” A blond supermodel comes strolling our way. She has heels on that would kill me. She’s all put together looking chic in a way that I could never pull off.
“This is Pepper.”
The woman offers me a bright smile. I noticed this time he didn't say my Pepper. I tell myself I do not care.
“I’m Marist. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I hold my hand out and she takes it.
“I’m going to be hiring Pepper on. She’s a designer like you.” Is there a hint of pride in Abel’s voice? “I saw some of her work and I knew I had to snatch her up before someone else got their hands on her.”
“Really?” I knew we wanted to hire me, but him saying it like that makes me feel all warm inside.
“Of course.”
“I would love to see it too whenever you have a chance. I think I’m going to enjoy watching this.” Watching this. What is that supposed to mean? “And working with you.” She winks at me before walking off. I’m noticing that’s a thing with the people here.
“She was nice too.”
“She is,” he agrees. “Joel,” he calls out.
“Here. Sir.” A short man in a suit pops his head out of an office. His eyes go straight to me, giving me a curious look.
“Pizza from the place on the corner. Extra cheese.” Abel looks down at me. “Something to drink?”
“Root beer.”
He smirks, shaking his head at me. “And a root beer. No calls, I'll be busy.” He pulls open a door for me.
“Are you two dating?” They actually did look like they could go together. She actually went up to Abel’s chin. I barely hit the center of his chest. They’d have that whole Barbie and GI Joe thing going on. That thought sours my mood.
“Joel isn't really my type.” I roll my eyes at him. “No, Marist and I have never been together, nor will we ever be.”
“She shot you down, huh?” I look around the office. I’m guessing it’s his. It’s nice. Plain but functional. It could use some color, but I always think that.
“I could have made her my fake girlfriend. We could have double dated tonight.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I drop down in one of the oversized chairs in front of the giant glass desk.
“She’s for my partner. Whenever he finally makes a move.” Abel goes over to his desk, pulling out a pen and notepad before taking the other oversized chair. Well, for him it’s more of a normal sized chair. He flips the pad open. “Now. Name your price.” Did that sound dirty or was it just me? Now I’m the one who needs to get my mind out of the gutter.
5
Abel
“I was kidding about the amount.” Pepper’s hand trembles as she hovers over the check with its many zeros. “But this is a joke, right? It’s not a real negotiable check.”
“The great thing about checks is that they’re valid on whatever. I could write a check on your underwear and as long as it has my account and the bank’s routing number, you could cash it.” I flash her a smile and shove the pointy end of the pizza in my mouth.
“Really?” Then she wrinkles her nose. “I’m not dumb. I went to school for design, not fashion.”
“Never thought you were, honey.” I nudge the box to her side of the table. “Eat up. After we’re done here, I’ll drive you to your new digs.”
Pepper gives one last longing glance at the check before folding it neatly in half and then half again. “I won’t actually need you to put me up since I have this. I can rent a far better apartment once this is deposited.” She waves the small piece of paper in the air.
I wipe my thumb down the side of my mouth and think about what an idiot I am. I gave a poor girl money so now she can flee. It’s like opening the cage and blowing wind under a bird’s wings. And it’s not that I want to clip her wings. Hell, I want her to fly high, but I also want her to come home every night to my place, also known as her new digs.