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)
“Fifth Avenue?”
“Oh God, no.” She couldn’t afford anything there.
You’ve got a shiny black credit card and no budget.
That didn’t mean she was going to go crazy. She couldn’t go into those expensive stores wearing twenty-dollar pumps and a skirt that was a thrift store find, anyway.
“I need to call my friend and ask her. Can we just park somewhere for a moment?”
“Of course.” He even put up the privacy partition.
She wondered why Steven hadn’t driven them home last night?
Maybe because it had been one in the morning.
But Reuben must have driven to work to have his car there.
She shrugged it off. What did she know about what he did? The man was an enigma.
Getting out her phone, she called Cammie.
“Hey! I thought you’d still be sleeping,” Cammie said.
Faith grimaced. Did she not know how loud Eric had been this morning?
She pushed away that thought. She didn’t want to blurt anything out that might upset her.
“Uh, no. It turns out that I’ve got to go shopping.”
“Shopping? For what?” There was a strange note in Cammie’s voice that she couldn’t figure out.
“For a formal dress and shoes. And I have nowhere to look.”
“Why would you need that?”
“I’m going to that charity banquet this weekend. With Mr. Jones.”
“What?” Shock filled Cammie’s voice. “As his date? Oh God, Faith. Do not fall in love with him. You know he’s not going to be serious about you. It’s just a work fling. You need this job, you’ve got nothing else to fall back on.”
“Ouch. Did you just wake up this morning and decide to brutalize me?” She tried to make a joke out of it, but the truth was, Cammie’s words hurt.
Maybe they hurt because they’re what you were thinking.
“I . . . shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that.” There was genuine regret in Cammie’s voice.
“It’s all right, I get it. I mean, he’s well out of my league. It’s obvious that he wouldn’t really be into me. But he’s . . . he’s a force of nature, Cammie, and what he wants he gets. And he wants me at this awards dinner with him.”
“Yeah, I get it. I was just hoping he’d offer you a permanent position so you’d stick around. I love having you here.”
Cammie might, but Faith knew Eric would love to see the back of her.
“Where do I go to get a dress?” she asked. That was the real reason she’d called. And she didn’t want to talk about Reuben and how quickly he was going to fire her when he got sick of her.
“What’s your budget?” Cammie asked.
“Oh, well, uh, there isn’t one.”
There were a few beats of silence.
“He gave me his credit card.” Faith winced, waiting for another lecture about how she couldn’t accept his money since he was her boss.
But Cammie let out a small squeal. “Okay, this might be fun. I’m going to give you the name of a store. My friend works there. I’ll call her and get her to look after you.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it, Cammie. Um, can I ask you something about Eric.”
“What about Eric?” she asked in a cold voice.
“I just wanted to get him something to apologize for waking you guys up last night. I don’t know what to get, though. Like maybe his favorite chocolate or booze or something else . . . I know it’s not much. Would that be lame?”
“Of course that’s not lame. That’s really thoughtful. But you don’t need to do that, Faith. Eric is happy to have you with us. He was just . . . concerned about you last night.”
Uh-huh.
Concerned, her ass.
She listened to Cammie tell her the name of Eric’s favorite bourbon.
Gah. The last thing she wanted was to spend her money buying something for that asshole, but it was the only thing she could think to say to Cammie.
It was obvious that her friend had a huge blind spot when it came to Eric.
And she didn’t know how to tell her the truth, or even if she should.
21
Reuben heard her return.
He forced himself not to rush into the other room to check on her. To ask her if she’d been drinking her water.
He checked the time and saw that she’d only been gone two hours. In his experience, that was a very short shopping trip.
Hopefully she’d gotten everything she needed.
You’re becoming obsessed.
Yet he couldn’t find it in him to be concerned.
A timid knock on the door. Hmm. She hadn’t knocked on the door like that since her first week.
“Come in,” he called out.
She walked in, carefully carrying a cup of coffee.
Fuck.
It wasn’t usual for him to feel regret. But he didn’t want her to worry about doing something accidentally, like spilling a cup of coffee.
The only thing she had to concern herself with was obeying him.
Faith put down his coffee without looking at him.