Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Maybe I could try fixing her up. I work with some young men who might be right for her. Maybe someone in HR.
“Jack? You still there?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m here. I’m sorry I bothered you. You want to have lunch tomorrow?”
“Sure. Just text me where and when.”
“Will do.”
I end the call, and just as I’m about to jump in the shower and get ready for bed, my phone buzzes again.
It’s Dylan.
“Yeah?” I say, not kindly.
“Jackson, bro.”
First, he’s not my bro.
“I wanted to apologize for tonight. But you know…”
“Yeah, I know. You saw a pretty face with a great ass.”
“When the man’s right, the man’s right.”
“Not a problem, Dylan. See you at work tomorrow.”
Feminine laughter permeates the background. Gigi Frost. Not that I’m surprised. I knew damned well where Dylan was heading tonight.
He is, however, not heading to the IT department on a recommendation from me. He’s on his own. I like to get laid as much as the next person, but I’ve worked hard to get where I am in Black Inc., and I didn’t let any hot piece of ass keep me from getting there—and plenty tried.
Into the shower.
And I find myself with a rock-hard dick.
I’m not exactly sure why. A few dances with Isabella Phillips didn’t do that for me. At any rate, the shower I take is a cold one.
When I’m done, I’m still horny as hell.
I could go to the club. It’s open until three a.m. I’m sure someone would be up for a scene. I even go so far as to dress in my club gear. I stand at the door of my apartment, ready to open it, but my hand doesn’t quite get to the knob.
I’m not sure how long I stand there—or what I think about—before I head back to my bedroom, peel off my black jeans, and go to bed.
…
Four a.m. comes early, but I love it. I mix myself a protein shake and head downstairs to the gym on the first floor of my building. Today is arms and abs day. After a forty-five-minute workout, I hit the treadmill. Normally, I like to run outside, but the weather is drizzly and dreary this morning, so the treadmill it is. I plug myself into some hard rock that keeps my blood pumping, set the machine to a steep incline, and begin.
I don’t think during my workouts—not about work, not about women, not about anything in particular. I listen to tunes and concentrate on physical fitness. I’ve been an athlete most of my life, and this is my me time.
Once my workout is complete, I head to the showers and then the steam room. Then back up to my apartment to dress for work.
Once at the office, who’s waiting for me but Dylan Andrews.
“Hey,” he says, following me into my office. “I want to apologize again for last night.”
“Not a problem.”
I don’t make eye contact. It’s a little trick I picked up when I first interned for Braden and Ben Black. They both do it. Some people will think it’s because you’re too insecure to look them in the eye, but in truth, it’s showing them they’re not important enough to bother with.
Will Dylan get it? I honestly don’t give a rat’s ass.
“Can we arrange a do-over?”
This time, I look up from my phone and deliberately meet his gaze. “No. We can’t.”
His cheeks redden slightly. “Look, man, I said I was sorry.”
“Mr. Andrews—”
He reddens further at my use of his surname.
“You need to decide what’s important. Is it your career? Is it drinks with someone whose recommendation you want? Or is it a quick lay?”
“You’re out of line, man. I’m allowed to have a social life.” His voice cracks.
Just a bit, but I notice.
“Not if you blow off a coworker after you set up the meeting.” I shake my head. “I hope Gigi Frost was worth it.”
“Frost? Is that her last name?”
I pick up a report off my desk, scanning the numbers in the spreadsheet. “Mr. Andrews, leave my office.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Does this mean I’m not getting your recommendation?”
“Figure that one out for yourself.”
He slinks out of my office with his tail between his legs.
I sit down at my desk, return several phone calls, and then…
I check the Lustr website.
Chapter Seven
Amanda
Lunch. Lunch with Jackson.
He texted me, wants me to meet him for sushi at one of our favorite dive sushi bars. I haven’t checked my Lustr account again. The thought is kind of daunting. And now? I have to meet Jackson for lunch, so Lustr will have to wait.
I take the subway, and when I reach the sushi bar, Jackson hasn’t arrived yet. I find a seat at the bar next to a single woman who is finishing up. I figure she’ll be done by the time Jack gets here.
“What can I get you?” one of the chefs asks me.