Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Besides, I don’t think it’s fair to talk. Rumors like this can ruin careers, and I need to think of this man as innocent until proven guilty.
“I can’t, guys, and I need you to accept that,” I say. It’s not late, but we’re one of two tables of drinkers, and there’s only one person sitting at the bar. A light rain has started, pebbling against the windows and turning the street outside into a soft splash of neon from the lights around us.
The prettiest man I’ve ever seen is sitting there, staring down at his phone. The bartender slides a cup in front of him. Coffee. He looks up, and a smile comes across his face.
My jaw kind of drops because it’s one of those moments when time seems to stand still and music plays in the background. It’s the moment when the heroine looks across the crowded room and sees Prince Charming for the first time, and the world seems like a better place than it had been before.
Or I’m really horny and he’s gorgeous.
“Wow.” Ivy is staring his way, too. “That is a stunning man. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dude take Anika’s breath away.”
“My breath is in my lungs, thank you.” I’m not gaping at the dude or anything. He’s obviously out of my league, but I appreciate a lovely work of art. I can’t tell how tall he is, but he has dark hair and a jawline that would make Superman envy him. He’s maybe thirty-five, though clean living could age him up a bit. He’s wearing slacks and a button-down, as though trying to blend in with the afterwork crowd.
That man couldn’t blend to save his life.
Harper sits up, a grin lighting her face. “Are we wingmen?”
Dear lord. That’s the last thing I need. The poor man is probably in town for a conference or something and he’s trying to wind down. He doesn’t seem to have a companion, but maybe his wife or girlfriend or husband is somewhere else and he’s waiting on them. “No. I just…I mean, look at him.”
“I am,” Ivy assures me. “Hence me being willing to back you up.”
“Or you could remember your boyfriend is sitting right here,” Heath says with a frown on his face.
Ivy turns her boyfriend’s way and puts a hand over his. “Sorry, babe. You know you are the only pretty man I need in my life, but you have to admit he’s kind of hot.”
Heath’s lips curl up. “He is striking, if you like the male-model type.”
I shake my head because he’s wrong. This man is gorgeous, but there’s character in there, too. Like he’s seen some things, but he handled them all. The way he’s smiling at the bartender makes me think he’s kind. She says something and his expression changes. He leans in, really listening to her, and then there’s compassion in the way he takes her hand. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I imagine it’s words of support because the bartender is suddenly smiling and thanking him. “He’s not a model.”
“Bet he is,” Harper says, challenge in her voice. “I bet he’s in town for a shoot. Or he’s meeting his older, wealthy lover right here in this hotel.”
“Or he’s in town on business and getting ready to head home to his wife and kids,” I shoot back.
Ivy shakes her head. “I don’t see a ring on that finger.”
“Hey, how about we head over to that diner two blocks over?” Darnell downs the rest of his beer. “Those appetizer things CeCe served were good, but I need man-sized food.”
I don’t want to leave because the view here is so nice. Still, I’m hungry, and if I sit here I’ll likely stare at the man long enough to make him uncomfortable.
It’s not like I planned our wedding and two point five highly gifted children in those few seconds.
I need a boyfriend. It’s been a while for me, and the last guy couldn’t handle my slight eccentricities. “Sure.”
Darnell slides out of the booth. “I’ll go hit the bathroom, and then we can go. I can already taste that burger.”
Actually, now that he mentioned it, I can, too. I’m kind of hungry and will likely be eating nothing but craft services for the next six weeks. On a show like this the crew films eighteen hours a day, seven days a week. A late-night burger with friends sounds good.
If they don’t keep pushing me to talk.
“I think you should go introduce yourself to him.” Ivy slides her arms into her jacket.
“Ivy’s right. He’s sitting alone in a bar,” Harper points out.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Heath finishes up his beer.
Ivy shrugs. “He’s sitting in a bar on a Saturday night looking like that, and he doesn’t have earbuds in. He looks like he’s…looking.”