Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
"Indeed, mayor."
"You still think you'll win our bet?"
"Of course..." Frankie's voice trailed off as her boss opened the envelope, and she could only hold her breath as Oliver unfolded the letter.
"It is with my deepest regret," Oliver began to read, "that I am submitting this letter of—-"
"Shit."
"I haven't finished yet."
Frankie made a face. "I know when I'm defeated."
"You don't look it, though."
"Because I just can't believe it," she burst out. "They've only spent a day or two in each other's company! Why would he leave his position—-"
"It's only just his position as police chief he's leaving," her boss pointed out mildly. "He's not relinquishing his role in The Hartland Initiative—-"
"But how sure is he that he can really trust her? I'm sure she's nice and all, but—-" Frankie frowned at the way her boss was smiling. "What's so funny?"
"You are. I suppose it's because I'm used to having my secretary know all the answers that when I see you floundering like this..."
"I just don't get it," she muttered under her breath.
"People also say they don't get how you haven't yet fallen in love with me—-" Oliver chuckled as his secretary started gagging.
"It's best to never listen to those people, Mayor O." Like, for sure Frankie wasn't so blind or dense that she didn't see how powerfully attractive her boss was. She had lost the number of times people mistook Mayor Oliver Winterbourne II for the Captain America actor, and honestly she had thought the same thing, too, the first time she had seen him. He really did look a lot like Chris Evans, but for her to fall for him just because the good mayor was gorgeous and sexy...
She might not care much about romantic relationships, but even she knew such things couldn't last if they were simply founded on physical attraction alone. There had to be something more...just like there was nothing more between her and Oliver, and there could not have been anything more between Chief Blackwood and Serafina Edison.
How could there be, Frankie wondered sensibly, when all they had were stolen moments with each other?
It wasn't like two people could just meet and magically fall in love. Right?
Chapter Nine
Y + K is still the hottest place to be on any given night, and its line has already reached the next block when my Uber lets me off at the corner. A part of me is dreading the need to queue, but the guys at the entrance spot actually wave me in, and it's one of those moments I feel intensely grateful I have my so-called job.
The restopub is styled like an arena inside, with dining patrons on the second floor able to enjoy the view of the dance lounge below. Phil, the maître d' of Y + K, is at his usual place behind the reception desk, and I'm touched at the way he smiles readily upon seeing me. "Welcome back, Ms. Edison."
I beam back at him. "Hey Phil."
"Tony shall walk you to your table. I hope you enjoy your time with us."
"Oh. Okay. Thanks." I don't actually have a reservation, but I guess it's my lucky night, and Phil's willing to bend the rules for me without being asked. Then again, it's a little weird that he hasn't even asked if I'm dining alone or I'm with someone else. He's normally meticulous with the details, and...oh my God!
"Raffi?"
Shit.
Apparently, Phil's assumed I'm here to join Jack and his other lawyer friends at their table, and...whoa!
Jack pulls me close as soon as he reaches me, and something excessively wet lands over my mouth.
SHIT!
But Jack's already stepped back before I can shove him off, and he's now smiling down at me like...oh.
"This is the best surprise, darling."
He thinks I'm here to tell him I've agreed to marry him...and have a high-profile wedding like he wanted to. It was originally what we argued about and kept us from making the engagement official, but there are obviously other issues now, and I anxiously tug his sleeve. "Listen, it's not—-"
But Jack's already put an arm around my waist, and the way my body automatically flinches at his touch makes me feel so guilty I end up letting him lead me to his table. A chorus of heys and wassups from his friends and their girlfriends welcome me, and I numbly go through the motions as we exchange a series of meaningless hugs and kisses.
A deluge of questions follows, and I realize in horror Jack's told them about my trip to Wyoming while twisting the truth at the same time. He's always had the tendency to pad his stories, like he doesn't think anything's ever worth telling as it is.
"The town's police chief personally came to rescue Raffi?"
"That's not—-"
Jack's chest puffs up with pride. "My girl's famous, you know."
"It's not—-"
"Hear, hear. Cheers to that!"