Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“No, we’re definitely attracted to each other. Under normal circumstances, we’d be having sex,” I mutter to myself. “I can’t imagine he’s celibate. So why is he keeping me at arm’s length?”
My lips twist as I mull this over for the millionth time.
If I know anything in the world, I can read a man—and Gannon wants me. It’s downright palpable. What stops him from going after what he wants? He has my number. I’ve told him to contact me at any time, and surely, he knows I’d jump at the chance. Yet he hasn’t initiated any contact. There’s been nothing.
Why?
“And this, Miss Johnson, is why I didn’t want you to work here. Because you’re trouble.”
Why does he think I’m trouble?
“Are you still here?” John from accounting pops out of a cubicle, making me jump. “Need some help with that?”
I laugh. “No, but I almost needed smelling salts. You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry.”
John’s smile is wide and genuine. He’s the kind of guy you take home to your mom. Ergo, not my type at all.
Still, he’s polite and kind, and I appreciate that.
“I figured you’d be out of here early on a Friday, too,” John says, walking side by side with me.
“Nope. I’m trying to get all of the plants serviced and on the mend. Once I do that, I won’t be here as much—if at all.” The wheels of the dolly screech. “What about you? Why are you still here?”
“We’re going through an audit, so that means extra hours.”
“An audit? That sounds scary.”
He flashes me another killer smile. “It’s not. Apparently, when Mr. Brewer’s father ran the company, things got really … murky. Now, external audits take place twice a year to keep things in check. It’s annoying but smart.”
“I can see that.” I pop open the maintenance closet door with a stopper and roll the dolly inside. Then I grab my tools that I tossed in here earlier and set them on the floor in the hallway. “Maybe Plantcy will be that big one day, and I’ll have my own audits.”
“Plantcy is your company?”
I grin, kneeling beside my stuff so I can get my tools organized and back in their containers. “Yes. It’s my pride and joy.”
“My grandmother was into plants. When she got old, we went to her house every day to check on her, run errands—that sort of thing. One of the chores was to help her tend to her babies, as she called them. The woman couldn’t see to pour herself a cup of coffee, but by gosh, she could see if you put an extra inch of water into her fern or whatever it was.”
I laugh.
“I always wondered why there wasn’t someone we could call to help. A home health for plants. Something like that.”
“Yes, exactly.” I nod proudly. “You get me.”
Movement catches my eye on my left, but I don’t turn. The shadow is tall and dark, giving off a moody, broody vibe.
A rush of tingles spreads across my skin.
“Hey, if you don’t have plans after work, do you want to grab some food?” John asks.
Gannon is just out of sight, but I know he’s there. He’s listening. Hmm …
“Actually, John, I’d love to have dinner with you,” I say. “But I have a party tonight for one of my closest friends. She bought her first house and is having a housewarming party. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, that’s okay.”
Gannon steps out of the shadows and into the light, stalking down the hallway toward us. Even though I can’t get a clear view of him, I can feel his vibes blasting our way. The intensity makes my mouth dry.
“Have fun at the party,” John says. “There’s always the possibility of next weekend, right?”
He must feel the glare pummeling his back because he glances over his shoulder. When he whips back around to face me, he’s pale.
“I’ll see you later,” he says.
“Bye, John.”
He races off into the opposite direction of Gannon.
My heart pounds as my sights set on the broody billionaire.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, stopping inches away from me.
I gaze up at him, trying to decide how to play this interaction. I could do what I think he wants and insist it was nothing. There’s the option of treating him like a god like every employee who works here does. Or I can fuck with him a little. He might say I’m trouble, but something tells me he likes it—even if he doesn’t admit it.
Besides, what’s the worst thing he can do? Fire me?
“What do I think I’m doing?” I ask. “Sadly, not what I thought I’d be doing when I’m on my knees in front of you.”
His eyes blaze.
“Relax,” I say, my voice low. “No one can hear me.”
“Do you even know John?”
I balk. “What?”
“Do you know him beyond chatting a few words in the office?”