Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Emma frowned, apparently not noticing the outright war of glares going on between Sal and me. “We left lunch behind? Now I feel bad. Everything I’ve eaten at Rosemont is so delicious I hate to think of any of it going to waste.”
And wasn’t that insanely gratifying. I had the urge to toss our burgers into the trash and haul her back home so I could feed her.
I grunted and took a sip of my bottled beer. “Amalie will eat it.”
Emma appeared slightly mollified. But the small furrow between her delicate brows remained. “I heard the chef was temperamental.”
Sal choked on his burger. I wasn’t taking bets on who told Emma that little bit of information.
I shot him a side-eye before answering. “He can be.”
“Have you met him?”
Now would be the time to clear things up. Only she might not want to eat my food once she found out. I wasn’t exactly her favorite person.
“I live on the estate. Of course I have.”
“What’s he like?” Definitely building castles in her head.
“Temperamental.”
Her mouth snapped shut before she glared—yes, I felt that glare through her owlish sunglasses. “You’re annoying.”
I saluted her with my beer. She scowled and tossed a balled-up napkin my way. It fell short of my plate by a foot, and I chuckled.
Shaking her head as though I was nothing more than a minor annoyance, Emma picked up a fry and poked at her pile of ketchup. “For some reason, I have a hard time picturing Amalie putting up with difficult staff.”
This was true. It surprised me that Emma understood that much about my grandmother. Then again, maybe it shouldn’t. Emma was far too observant.
I affected a bored shrug. “She has a soft spot for him.”
“Oh, are they . . .” Her face lit up as she smiled. “You know, into each other?”
Sal choked so hard on his burger that little bits escaped. Much to his mortification. “I’m going to have nightmares,” he muttered, wiping the table frantically with his napkin. Only I knew he wasn’t talking about the mess.
“Not everything is about sex, Snoopy.”
“I don’t think everything is—what did you call me?” She whipped off her glasses. Sparks of outrage shot from her eyes. It was a good look for her. “Did you really just call me Snoopy?”
I grinned, feeling lighter than I had all morning. “Nosy Parker work better for you?”
“Not even a little, Magic Mike.”
“Mike danced. He didn’t swim.”
The pert nose of Princess Anya lifted a touch. “He put on a certain type of show. That’s the point.”
“A type you apparently like to watch.”
Her cheeks pinkened as she bristled. I started to chuckle again but then caught sight of Sal, who had his phone up and pointed our way. “What the hell are you doing?”
I’d forgotten all about him. Which, admittedly, was easy to do around Emma.
“Filming this for Amalie. She’ll be so pleased.”
“Sal!” Emma hissed, horrified.
He took pity on her and set the phone facedown on the table. “I kid. I’m not going to send anything to Amalie. That would be a gross violation of privacy.”
I snorted, and he gave me a beatific smile. “I’ll just save it for later when I want to annoy Oz.”
“You don’t need a video for that, Sal.”
Sal flipped me off, his hot-pink nail like an exclamation point, but then he laughed and sat back to drink his shake. “He’s quick, Emma. Very quick.”
I knew he was teasing. But it hit far too close to home, when the guys would call me His Quickness.
Quick feet, fast hands.
I could hear them in my head. My guys.
His Quickness is on it. You slapping on those ruby slippers and taking us to Emerald City, Oz?
Stupid stuff. Shit we said to get pumped, to take the pressure off. I missed every damn second.
“You’ve got him grunting again, Sal,” Emma said, misinterpreting my sudden change of mood. It elevated slightly, along with my heart rate, when she reached over and patted my forearm. “Don’t worry, honey pie; you’ll be all right.”
“Honey pie?” My voice sounded far too rough.
She shrugged an elegant shoulder. “Something my granny used to say when she thought I was being petulant. ‘Don’t worry, honey pie; the world will keep turning.’”
“Did it piss you off when she said it? Or did you believe her?”
Emma grinned wide, displaying that dazzling smile fans and press alike adored. “A bit of both.”
God, I wanted to return that smile. I wanted a lot of things. It was one thing to like the way she looked. It was something else to like her. And I did. I liked her a lot.
“You two are so cute,” Sal said.
Emma’s smile dropped. “And you are a horrible tease. Stop tormenting Lucian.”
“He needs more tormenting of that type, if you ask me.” He pushed back from the table. “I’m getting a Diet Coke to chase this shake down. Anyone want anything?”