Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Pleased to find all my emails downloaded, I take a seat and start sorting through them.
One by one, I go through and unsubscribe from all the mailing lists about healthy babies and fetal development, then I delete them. I go through and remove all the emails from my sources about tips on new cases, not needing the temptation. Well, I only delete the ridiculous ones and the ones that could potentially get me into trouble again. The ones that Tank would deem too dangerous, but the ones I feel really need to be investigated are forwarded to the next best in the business, leaving me with the shitty but super easy ones.
Though I have to say, it won’t be that easy now that Tank has demanded I do it all with Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak. I have no idea how I’m going to make this work, but I guess I’ll have to be creative.
After printing off the few tips that I can actually work with, I start doing a little research on my new scumbags, and by lunch, I’ve nearly got one solved, and the rest are well underway.
Feeling a bit claustrophobic in my office, I head out for lunch and find a little café to eat at while sitting outside in the warm LA sun. I decide to head to the mall after, pushing my way through the door of Frisky Framing. The little bell above the door chimes as I make my way up to the counter.
The guy behind the counter looks me up and down as an interested grin takes over his face, and I briefly consider walking straight back out the door. I’m not sure I want to trust this guy with my most precious possessions.
I can’t help but look him over as he brings his hands down on the counter and leans forward. I start at the top and make my way down, taking in his unwashed, unbrushed man bun, his tanned skin that’s also peeling from what must have been a very nasty sunburn, down past the long scrawny body that I’m pretty sure I’d be able to see his ribcage through, and finishing off on the toneless, chicken arms supporting his weight on the counter.
I can’t help but groan, knowing he’s going to try to hit on me. I can’t think why he even thinks he stands a chance. I’m married to a man who’s at least four times his size, and has the whole dark, smoldering thing going for him. This guy looks as though he owns one of those hippy vans that breaks down on the highway with a surfboard on top.
I finish making my way toward the counter and begin rifling through my bag, searching for my other bag filled with my baby things while his grin becomes wider and his eyes become hooded.
Ugh. My gaze quickly scans the shop to check if there are any other employees, but just my luck, I’m stuck with Man Bun.
“Hey,” he says as he gives me a slight nod. “What brings such a beautiful woman like you into my store?”
I ignore his flirty comments as I dump my little bag on the counter. “I need this stuff arranged into a frame.”
“Uhh . . .” he starts as he rips his eyes away from mine and down to the counter. “Sure . . . wait. Is that a . . .”
“A piss stick? Yes,” I confirm.
His face scrunches up in disgust. “You can’t put that there,” he informs me.
“Seriously?” I groan. “You think I’m getting around with dripping piss in my handbag? It’s clean. Can you do it or not?”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “What were you looking for?”
I rattle off the few ideas I have floating around in my head and leave him with it while also giving him specific instructions on being careful with my things.
I give him a friendly smile before turning away, making my way to the door when he calls out to me.
“Ahh, Sophie, is it?”
I turn back around and look at him, unsure of what he could want. I mean, I’ve already given him all my ideas and have already paid. “Um, yeah?”
“You, ahh . . . wouldn’t fancy going on a date? Maybe dinner tonight?”
Is this guy kidding me? After I just showed him the picture of my husband cradling my baby bump, my piss stick, and an ultrasound, he still wants to ask me out. At least the guy has balls.
“I’d love to go out on a date . . . with my husband,” I tell him.
He gives me a tight smile and a nod. “Fair enough,” he says before looking away.
I take that as my cue to leave and dash back out of the store, a little too excited about the final product. Hopefully, it doesn’t take too long to put together. Though one thing’s for sure, I can’t wait to surprise Tank with it.