Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 106147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“I won’t. Take care, Dario, and tell your mom I said hello.”
***
The next day I put a call in to the ADA assigned to Storm’s case. I learned he was out for the rest of the week, so it would be a while before I’d be able to talk to him and have an excuse to call Autumn. Yet I kept eyeing her business card on my desk. Right before I headed out to lunch, I took the card and tossed it into my drawer. Maybe removing her name from plain sight would help me stop thinking about her so much.
I met Trent and Juliette in a conference room to have lunch. We’d ordered in Chinese from the place down the block.
“So, I have gossip,” Juliette said as we dug in.
“If you’re going to force us to listen to dumb stories again, this time they’d better be about actual people,” I said, opening my food carton.
Last time we’d had lunch, Juliette had told us some elaborate story about a woman dating a dozen guys. I’d been getting into it until I realized the people she was talking about weren’t actual friends of hers. She’d been reciting crap from the last few episodes of The Bachelor.
“Oh, this is about actual people. Though, I know you secretly want to know what happened to Kayla when she took Jeff home for her hometown visit and had to tell him she has a kid. But I’ll save that for after.”
“Gee, thanks,” I grumbled.
“Be nice, or I won’t tell you that I ran into my friend Trina earlier today in the ladies’ room.”
“Which one is Trina again?” Trent asked.
Juliette grinned and looked in my direction, even though I hadn’t asked the question. “She’s Blake Dickson’s assistant.”
Now that got my attention. “What did she have to say?”
“I asked her how her grumpy boss was doing. She said he’d been more tolerable lately.”
My fork froze with a shrimp halfway to my mouth. “I don’t want to know what’s making him more tolerable.”
She scrunched up her face. “Ewww. I didn’t go into that kind of detail. But she said he’s been seeing someone new. I thought you might want to know what the deal is between them.”
“The deal between who?” Trent asked.
I forgot I hadn’t yet told him about my run-in with Autumn. “I’ll catch you up in a minute,” I said. I lifted my chin to Juliette. “Go on.”
“Well, they’ve only been dating about a month and a half, and they only see each other once a week, that she knows of. Not surprisingly, The Dick makes his assistant make his dinner reservations.” Juliette shook her head. “She said Autumn’s only ever called the office once, when she was returning Dickson’s call. So things don’t sound too serious.”
Trent’s forehead wrinkled. “Autumn? The woman who ghosted you?”
I filled him in on what had transpired since the call I’d gotten when we were out to dinner. He leaned back in his chair.
“Shit. So what are you going to do?”
“Considering I need Dickson’s vote?” I shrugged. “Nothing.”
Trent and Juliette looked at each other. Some unspoken communication passed between them, and they both cracked up.
“What the hell is so funny?”
“You,” Juliette snorted. “You say it as if you actually believe it.”
“Believe what?”
“That you can control going after something you want.”
CHAPTER 6
* * *
Donovan
When Saturday night arrived, I was looking forward to doing absolutely damn nothing—maybe watch whatever new action flick was currently streaming, water my plants, kick my feet up on my coffee table, and suck back a cold beer or two. I deserved a reward. I’d managed to catch up on my billable hours, and I hadn’t broken down and called a certain woman whose name I would not be thinking about tonight—especially when I climbed into bed later. Over the last few days, I’d managed to talk myself down off the cliff I’d been standing on. I’d worked seven long years to get where I was today, and I was not going to let a woman fuck that up, especially not one who had no interest in me.
Nope. I was not interested in Autumn Wilde.
Not in the least.
I picked up the spray bottle on my kitchen counter and walked over to the first of more than a dozen plants scattered around my apartment.
“She’s not my type anyway.”
Spray. Spray.
As if to challenge that statement, my brain conjured up a memory of Autumn from our weekend together—long legs, creamy skin, gorgeous, deep red hair, tiny waist, and a pretty full ass for a little thing…
“Fine,” I grumbled. “So maybe she’s sort of my type—physically, anyway. But she’s definitely more work than I could handle.”
Spray. Spray.
Though…when I looked back at the weekend we’d spent together, which I’d definitely done on a few hundred occasions, work wasn’t exactly how I’d describe it. Just the opposite. Autumn and I had been holed up here in my apartment for three full days, and it was probably the most effortless good time I’d had in…maybe forever. We’d talked until the sun came up and spent the days renting movies, fooling around a bit, laughing, and falling asleep snuggled on the couch. I’d even done her damn laundry while she’d slept.