Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Me: Bring your damn car over here so I can reset the computer.
Sara: I’m busy trying to find a place to stay.
Me: Oh, okay. What are your options?
Sara: Right now, I’m sitting at Mugger’s and waiting on Brock to text me back.
Brock? The guy she lied about meeting yesterday?
My fingers fly over the keyboard.
Me: If you don’t get your computer reset, your car might not make it to Brock’s.
My insides twist, and I’m not sure if it’s because the thought of her staying with Brock pisses me off or if it’s that I just lied to her. Her car isn’t going to do shit if she doesn’t get it reset.
And who cares if I don’t know this Brock dude? I do know men like him, and they’re all assholes who shouldn’t get to touch Sara. Period.
Oh, well. Hard times call for desperate measures. I adjust myself. And I’m definitely hard.
Sara: That sucks for me. Although you said it would be fine to drive. So were you full of shit then or now?
“Stop being so difficult,” I mutter, typing out a response.
“You okay, Banks?” Tasha calls from her desk. “Sounds like you need a vacation. But not with me. You need your own vacation.”
Stop talking about a vacation, Tasha. “I’m fine.”
“You’re acting like a weirdo,” she says just loud enough for me to hear.
I ignore her.
Me: Muggers is a mile from my shop. Come here and let me help you.
I roll my eyes and send another text.
Me: You’ll be doing me a favor.
Sara: How?
Me: Because I won’t have to worry that you’ll break down.
Another lie, but I’m getting pretty good at this.
Sara:
Me:
Sara: Fine, but I’m paying you.
Me: Whatever. Just come over here.
There’s a long pause.
Sara: Can you make it cheap, though? I’m broke.
Me: JUST COME OVER HERE.
Sara: Bossy you sometimes turns me on. I’m not going to lie. But today—it pisses me off.
Motherfucking hell.
My entire body tenses as I type furiously.
Me: Are you coming?
Sara: Is that an innuendo or a real question?
Me:
Sara: I’ll be there in five minutes. I was leaving Muggers anyway.
I drop my phone. It rattles on my desktop.
“You sure you’re okay, Banks?” Tasha asks.
I look up to catch her standing in the doorway. She’s studying me intently.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Ashley’s friend, Sara, will be in here in just a few minutes. Can you send her back here, please?”
“Sure,” she says slyly. “But remember I’m leaving early today. I gotta get my daughter to her dentist appointment on time, or they won’t see us anymore.”
I nod.
She swallows, her chest rising and falling. “I also wanted to talk to you about something.”
Don’t say vacation. Don’t say vacation. Don’t say vacation. “Sure, what’s up?”
“My husband and I were talking last night, and I told him how you said I should take a vacation.”
Internally, I scream. “Yeah.”
“He’s going to an Illinois Legends meet-and-greet or something in Chicago. He won tickets somehow a while back. Anyway, he was thinking that it would be really cool if we could make it a family trip.”
“When is it?” I ask.
“Friday,” she says. “I told him it was probably too soon to take time off, but he insisted that I try. But if you don’t think it’s possible, then—”
“Go.”
Her brows shoot to the ceiling. “Really?”
“When is he coming back?”
“He’s staying a week,” she says in a rush. “But I can be back Monday. The weekend is all I’m after, and oh, my gosh, Banks. I can’t believe—”
Fuck it. “Hey, Tash?”
“Yeah?”
“Take the whole week off.”
“What? Banks? Really?” she asks, her voice nearing squeal level.
This is not at all what I want to do, and I’m not sure how we’ll function around here without her. But she’s never asked me for a thing since the day she started, and if anyone deserves a week’s break from this place, it’s Tasha.
“Have fun with your family,” I say, remembering Maddox’s disappointment last night. “We might as well make one of our families happy.”
She bounces on her toes. “Thank you, Banks. Honest. I could kiss your face right now.”
“Don’t let me interrupt.” Sara stands next to Tasha, her eyes sparkling. “Should I wait in the lobby?”
Tasha’s eyes go wide as a slow smile stretches across her lips. My heartbeat quickens.
“You’re fine, Sara,” I say, my eyes glued to hers. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tash.”
“Have a good night, Banks,” she says, smirking.
Sara enters my office, and Tasha shuts the door softly behind her.
The room fills with a warm, slightly sweet scent and an energy that I only feel when Sara is around.
My gaze drags up her bare legs capped in a pair of yellow shorts, over her thick thighs, across the curve of her hip, and over the round tits showcased in a tight white tank top.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” she says, her tone as clipped as mine. She waits for me to respond, and when I don’t, she rolls her eyes and sits in the chair across from me. “I looked up my tire alert, and the internet says it’ll be fine and that the chances I’ll break down are very, very small.”