Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I silently excused myself, hurrying to the bathroom across the hall to splash cold water over my face.
Wanting Asher Silas was the last thing I needed. We couldn’t be more different, and besides, he was quite literally my work right now.
No, I didn’t want him. It was just the book and the similarities between the characters. That was all.
I told myself that five more times before I was able to face him again in his office, and the mantra did nothing to stop the visions of him and me on his desk, lost in each other in a way I’d write about.
So, I hid behind my laptop and tried like hell to not look at him the rest of the day.
* * *
“Does this even compare to the way you’ve been eating all week?” Madison asked me from across the dinner table, a glass of white wine in her hand.
I’d demanded the night off, even though I knew Asher wouldn’t be taking one. Though it was nearing ten p.m. so he was likely in bed reading right now, as his schedule dictated. I couldn’t help but picture him in his king-size bed, the crisp white Egyptian cotton sheets casually over his legs, his chest bare, a book in his hands…
“Daisy?” Fiona asked, and I blinked out of the fantasy.
“You know I love this restaurant,” I said, sipping my mojito.
Fiona laughed where she sat next to me, then flashed a conspiratorial look at Maddie. “But you’ve been fed by a private chef for over a week now. That has to be pretty easy to get used to.”
I set down my drink as the server came to clear our dessert plates. “It’ll definitely be a tragic moment when I stop shadowing him,” I admitted. “I’m working on James every day,” I said, laughing. “Trying to convince him to come and cook for me, but on an author’s salary.”
The girls laughed, and I breathed a little easier. I’d needed this girls’ night after living a billionaire’s schedule the past week. They helped bring me back down to earth, back to the life I lived, complete with best friends and fun drinks and no set bedtimes.
“How’s that going?” Maddie asked.
“Not too well,” I said, shaking my head. “Asher pays James too well. But it’s all in good fun.” I glanced down at Fiona’s hand where it rested on the table, admiring the ring on her left-hand ring finger. “How is Brogan?”
Fiona grinned so brightly she gave the diamond ring a run for its money. “He’s wonderful,” she said in a kind of sing-song voice. “Skye too. We’ve found this wonderful kind of rhythm that I didn’t even know existed.”
“I’m so happy for you,” I said, my heart lifting. Fiona had struggled when she’d taken the job as the Carolina Reapers’ fiercest left wing’s nanny. She’d fought her heart tooth and nail before finally realizing how much in love she was with Brogan.
“Thanks,” Fiona said. “But you know Brogan is amazing. We text about it every day in the group chat.”
Maddison laughed. “That’s true.”
“So,” Fiona said, leaning over the table. “Tell us more about Asher Silas.”
“Yes,” Maddison said. “He’s insanely gorgeous and you’ve barely told us anything over text.”
I shrugged. “It would’ve felt wrong texting about him behind his back.”
“But there is nothing wrong with talking about him with the sworn-secrecy of your two best friends, right?” Maddison said, and I laughed.
“I guess not,” I said. “Asher is…”
Tempting. Funny. Wonderful.
No. No. No.
“A brilliant business executive,” I said, and they both frowned at me. “What? He is!”
“Okay, fair enough,” Fiona said.
“No way,” Maddison said. “Not fair enough. You’re telling me you’ve been shadowing him for over a week and there is nothing more you’ve learned about him except he’s a great business exec?”
I stirred the mint in my drink, biting back a smile.
“I knew it!” Maddison said. “I could tell from how silent you were about him in our group chat. You like him, don’t you?”
“I do not!” I shook my head. “He’s nice, that’s all.”
“He’s nice?” Fiona asked, drawing it out like we were school children teasing each other about crushes.
“Stop,” I said, laughing. “He is. He’s…” I groaned. “He’s ridiculous with his schedule. A real type-A person who has absolutely zero room for spontaneity, which I find super sad, but it seems to work for him.” I sighed. “He has a real heart of gold, but doesn’t really show that to many people, I just kind of accidentally stumbled upon it. And of course, he’s always shocked by me and my need for sleep and freedom and all things opposite of his life.”
“Interesting,” Maddison said, grinning at me. “He sounds like a dream.”
I nodded, unable to hide that from them. “Sometimes I think he is. I mean, he has to have faults, right? Other than his ridiculous schedule. No billionaire is that good to his core.”