Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 155903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Then she headed into the kitchen to grab her lunch. Which consisted of a banana and an apple.
She hadn’t had time for anything else this morning.
Heading back to her desk, she sat down to eat her apple.
“Faith!”
Faith winced. Uh-oh. Getting up, she made her way into his office.
“Yes, sir?”
He grimaced. Perhaps she should call him Mr. Jones since he didn’t seem to like ‘sir’ much.
“They forgot the pastrami.”
“Um, well, actually . . . ” she trailed off, wishing she could lie. But she didn’t want to get anyone into trouble.
He sighed. “What did you do?”
“Well, there was a homeless woman and her dog on the street . . . ”
He closed his eyes. “Don’t tell me, that dog is dining on my pastrami?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And your lunch?” he asked.
“I hope she likes chicken salad,” she whispered.
“Faith,” he said warningly.
“I’ll go get you a new sandwich.” She’d use her emergency ten dollars she kept in her shoe.
But he held out the credit card again without looking up. “Get us both lunch and ensure they both arrive back here with all their fillings.”
“Okay, but I’ll just eat your sandwich.” She gestured to the meatless sandwich.
“You will not. You will do as you are told and get those sandwiches. Now.”
Definitely a tyrant.
“Eric! The yard looks amazing!”
Faith frowned as she stepped out of the bathroom. Cammie must have gotten in late last night because Faith hadn’t heard her.
As she walked into the kitchen, she spotted Cammie hugging Eric. He raised his eyes to glare at Faith.
“I’ve missed you!” Cammie told him. “You did an amazing job.”
“Thanks, babe,” he rumbled. “Anything for you.”
What a dick.
As Faith heated a microwave meal, Eric entered the kitchen, stepping closer and looming over her.
She would not be intimidated.
“Do not say a word.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
Cammie entered the kitchen just as Eric moved away to start loading the dishwasher.
“Oh, babe, don’t do those,” Cammie said. “I’m sure Faith won’t mind doing it.” She smiled over at Faith.
Faith forced a smile. “Sure.”
“Aren’t I lucky to have a man who takes such good care of me?” she said to Faith.
“Uh-huh,” Faith replied as she put things in the dishwasher.
“Oh, and I don’t mean to be a bitch, Faith, but the bathroom is a bit dirty. Could you clean that up?”
Awesome.
“Sure.”
It was time to start searching for somewhere else to live.
7
Late. She was late.
She was very, very late.
In fairness, it hadn’t been her fault. Darn Colin had forgotten to wake her this morning.
And in fairness to Colin, he couldn’t speak. Because, you know, he was a stuffed toy.
But now, she was horribly late, and she was going to be in so much trouble.
“SOS. SOS,” a creepy, Devil-like voice came out of her handbag. The woman sitting next to her on the bus gave her a strange look.
Faith smiled wanly and drew her phone out.
SOS: Where are you, Blossom?
Fudge.
Faith: I’m ten minutes away, sir.
She was going to have to hoof it to get there in ten minutes. The bus came to a stop and she raced down, but her foot hit something, and she went flying, landing on her hands and knees.
“Are you okay?”
Faith glanced up, trying to blink back her tears as an older woman held out a hand to her. She took it, letting the woman help her up.
“Yes, thank you.”
“You shouldn’t be in such a rush.”
Nodding, Faith carried on at a half-limp. She made it up the elevator and to her desk before she realized she’d forgotten to stop and get Reuben a latte.
Don’t cry.
She didn’t look at her hands or pull up her skirt to study her knees.
Reuben’s door was partially open so she didn’t bother to knock. “Sir, I’m here. But I have to go get your coffee.”
“Come here, Blossom.”
Yikes.
Taking a fortifying breath, she stepped into the room, her gaze down. If she looked at him, she thought she might burst into tears. Which wasn’t a professional look.
“Ms. Blossom, look at me.”
“I’d really rather not,” she whispered.
To her surprise a pair of black shoes appeared in front of her feet. And a finger was placed under her chin, tilting her head back. She blinked as she stared up into his face.
“What happened?”
Sniffle.
Stop it.
“Little Blossom,” he crooned.
She closed her eyes. Why couldn’t she resist him when he spoke to her like that?
“Tell me what happened,” he demanded.
“I slept in,” she blurted out. “Fudge. Why did I tell you that?”
“You should always tell me the truth,” he told her. “Then what happened?”
“I was rushing here and I tripped.”
Sniffle.
“You tripped?”
“Yes.”
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
A hand grasped one of hers, turning it over and she couldn’t help but look down.
Fudge.
She’d managed to scrape her palm. As soon as she saw the wound, her hand began to sting. He grabbed her other hand, again holding her so gently and turned it.
“Ouchie.”
“Little Blossom, you are not fine.”