Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
During his conversation, he points to me, and the bartender nods before turning away. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome gives me a big thumbs-up, so I guess he’s buying me a drink? I can’t believe this is happening. I owe Maggie for insisting I leave my room tonight. I never thought I’d make it past her first suggestion. Well, I haven’t actually spoken to him, but buying me a drink is like saying hello in adult dating talk.
I mouth, “Thank you,” and twirl a loose strand of hair around my finger—a nervous habit I’ve had since before I can remember, and one that makes me look childish. I tuck my hands under the table to control my errant fingers.
He grins at me with a quick nod, but there’s something sweet in the way he looks at me. It calms me even though my heart is racing. When he pushes back from the bar and stands up with his drink in his hands, his clothes seem to magically fall in place around him. He doesn’t need to even straighten his tie.
My breath catches as he moves toward me, and my heart rate hits aerobic levels. Could he actually be coming over to my table?
The idea both excites and freaks me out. Everything about him shouts worldly and refined, while I sit here in my Forever 21 dress looking like I just graduated from college … which I did.
Before he can take two full steps my way, a woman moves in front of him. Dammit. She’s dressed in high-end couture with a tight black pencil skirt and a white silk blouse tucked in at the waist. Her dark hair is twisted into a high bun on top of her head. I can’t see her face, but I watch her kiss him on the cheek, and sadly, he does the same to her.
They exchange a few words, and he glances over her shoulder to look at me. Our eyes lock, and he smiles while tilting his head, almost like he’s trying to apologize. For what, I’m not sure. The woman turns her head, following his gaze to meet mine.
And of course, she’s drop dead gorgeous, and closer to his age and level of sophistication. Perfect makeup, perfect hair, perfect clothes—the perfect polished look I’ll never have this side of a Tim Gunn makeover and total submersion at Sephora.
With a knowing look in her eyes, the woman inspects me with that instinctual female once-over, then says something to him. He nods at her—or is it at me?
In complete shock, I can’t seem to close my mouth. Here he is with a woman he’s more than air kissed, and he’s still flirting with me. What a player. A drop-dead gorgeous one, but a player is a player all the same.
The handsome jerk gives me a quick wink, then places his hand on the small of his date’s back before guiding her out of the restaurant, making me question the short interaction I had with him.
I watch the cozy pair until they disappear into the lobby. It’s a good thing his date arrived before he made it to my table. I’d rather know the truth from afar than have it blow up right in my face.
I take a deep breath and try to exhale all the crazy feelings this guy stirred up inside me. No man has ever gotten me this hot and bothered– or angry before. After two more breaths, I feel less revved up and notice Jeffrey heading toward me with a tray in his hands.
“Your lentil soup, my lady,” he says, placing the steamy bowl down in front of me. “A basket of bread. I threw in a few extra pieces,” he whispers.
“Thanks,” I say, ready to dig in.
“And another prosecco from an admirer at the bar.” He turns to where the man with the wandering eyes was sitting. “Well, looks like he’s left. Odd.”
“Yeah, very. Since he left with his date.”
“Do you know who he was?” Jeffrey leans down closer to me, like he’s telling me something he shouldn’t.
“He buys me a drink before leaving with his date. I’d say he’s a cheater.” I cross my hands over my chest with a huff. Just thinking about the gall of this stranger has me getting worked up all over again.
“No kidding?” Jeffery sets the tray down. “I’ve known him a few years. Actually, he owns this hotel … well, his family does, and they’re amazing to the employees here.”
“Wait, he owns this hotel?”
“Yes, the Hammond family does. You know, the same ones who own Hammond Press?”
“What’s his name?” I ask, because I’ve been trying to get this publisher to respond to my five hundred emails with my résumé attached. I think I’ve applied for every job they’ve posted online, even ones requiring ten years’ experience. I want a job there badly.