Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“A little tired but I’m okay,” she admits.
“Are you hungry?” I ask as I stop by the passenger side door. “We can get a late lunch/early dinner and discuss a couple of things.”
I can see the wheels spinning in her head. “That sounds great.” She shocks me. I was betting on her saying she would get room service. Score one for me, I guess.
“Great,” I say, stepping forward and opening her door for her.
She mumbles, “Thank you,” right before I shut the door on her and before she can tell me she’s changed her mind. I store her luggage in the trunk before getting in the car.
“What do you feel like eating?” I ask, starting the car and turning the AC on.
“Surprise me.” She smiles, and I just smirk, raising my eyebrows, knowing full well she isn’t going to want me to surprise her with what I want to eat. Because what I actually want to eat is her. “You seem to know what I like since all my favorite food was on the plane.”
“Ahh,” I say, putting my glasses over my eyes so she can’t see me gawk at her. “Just wanted you to be comfortable.”
“Should we discuss how you knew?” She turns in her seat to look at me.
“It’s not a state secret, Zoey.” I pull out of the parking lot and into traffic.
“It’s not, but you got me my favorite bagel. How did you know?”
I think about lying to her and saying it was a good guess, but she might find out the truth, and then it’ll make me look like a creepy stalker, so I tell her, “You post about that sandwich every Saturday on your Instagram. You always get it after Pilates.” I don’t have to look at her to see her mouth is hanging open. “I figured it would be a nice treat.”
“That was,” she confirms, turning back in her seat to look in front of her. “That was very thoughtful.”
“My pleasure.” I zigzag through the traffic, heading toward my favorite sushi restaurant, knowing she loves sushi also. She looks out the window as we make our way there, making me more nervous than I have ever been. I’ve done million-dollar deals without breaking a sweat, but being with Zoey in my car, my hands are all clammy, and my mouth is dry.
I pull into the parking lot and turn off the car. She opens her backpack on the floor between her feet and grabs a black purse. “Is it okay to leave this in the car, or should I take it inside?”
“We are going to sit right there.” I point at the window of the small little sushi place. “The car will be in full view at all times.”
“So if someone comes around and smashes your window, you’ll throw your body at them to protect my laptop?”
I stare at her, trying not to burst out laughing. “Most definitely,” I assure her, turning my head to the side and secretly laughing while I reach for the door handle and open the door. I’m rounding the car when she gets out of her side. I take her in again, just like I did when she was walking down the plane's steps. Her pink pants are loose fitting and have elastic at the ankle, so they look comfortable and classy, with a tight white shirt that shows off her perfect fucking tits. Tits that if you didn’t know, you would think were fake, but I’ve memorized them since the first time I saw her in a bikini. It’s also because I’ve seen her in said bikini that I know that what is under her clothes is one million times better than her with clothes on. The jacket hides all the goodness that is under it.
We walk side by side toward the door, and I pull it open for her before she walks in and stands in the small entrance. This place has five tables, which are always taken at lunch and dinnertime. Since it’s almost dinner, only two tables are open.
“Take a seat.” A woman sticks her head out from the back between the bead curtain.
I wait for Zoey to walk toward the table in the middle of the window looking outside. She sits in one chair, and I sit in the chair facing her instead of beside her. She puts her purse on the chair there. The woman from the back comes out with a pitcher of water in one hand and two menus in the other. “Have you been here before?”
“It’s my go-to,” I tell her. “Usually, I pick it up and take it home or to the office. I don’t think I’ve ever actually eaten here.”
Zoey looks up at the woman with a smile when she puts the menus on the table between us as she fills two glasses of water before asking, “Sake?”