Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
"You texted me about it in the middle of the night with a number of emojis I have never seen before. Check yourself, if you don't believe me."
God... If you are up there, just smite me now. Better yet, open up a portal to an alternate dimension where I made better life choices.
I peered through my fingers to find Orion actually smiling. I was getting a very good look at those cute dimples of his, too. Seeing his smile did interesting things to my stomach. Or maybe that was just the hangover. Probably the hangover. Definitely the hangover.
"In my defense," I said, "your sister kept refilling my wine glass."
"And that made you develop an obsession with my posterior?"
"I am not obsessed with your—" I stopped, noticing his smirk. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
He moved to stand in front of his desk, putting himself directly in front of me. Putting himself closer to me than was strictly necessary, and the proximity was already making me feel like I was getting a hot flash. "We should discuss appropriate workplace behavior,” Orion said.
"Right," I said, straightening. "Very professional. No more commenting on body parts. Got it."
"Or booping noses."
I groaned. "I was hoping that part was a nightmare."
"If it helps, Catman seemed to approve of me."
"He's a terrible judge of character. He once tried to adopt a raccoon. We had to have an intervention."
Orion's laugh was unexpected and...nice. Really nice. The kind of nice that made me forget about my hangover for a second. The kind of nice that made me want to make him laugh again.
"About last night," he said, his voice turning serious. "I want to make sure we're clear about—"
A knock at his door made us both jump. Roman stuck his head in.
"Sir? You asked me to let you know when the meeting was about to start.” Roman glanced at his phone, then gave a quick smile. “Five minutes."
Orion stood, professional mask sliding back into place. "We'll finish this discussion later, Miss Hartwell."
"Looking forward to it," I said, then immediately wanted to kick myself. "I mean, not looking forward to it. Just... acknowledging it. Professionally. Like a professional who professionally acknowledges things. Professionally."
His lips twitched. "Get some coffee, Ember. You look like hell."
"Gee, thanks, Da—" I clamped my mouth shut. "Thanks. Just... thanks."
"And Ember?" he called as I reached the door. "Nice shoes."
I looked down at my feet, realizing in horror that in my rush, I'd put on one black heel and one navy one.
Perfect. At least I couldn't possibly embarrass myself any more today.
Then my phone buzzed with another text from Cole.
Cole: Just thought of that thing you used to do with your tongue. Remember?
I stared at my phone in horror. Apparently, today could still get worse. Wonderful. And there went my appetite for lunch, which was especially frustrating because I loved lunch.
At least I had coffee to look forward to. And possibly an exorcism for whatever demon had possessed me last night and made me think booping Orion Foster's nose was a good idea.
“Maybe let’s try to be less of a walking disaster from here on out?” I muttered to myself as I walked back to my desk.
A passing employee gave me an odd look, probably wondering why I was talking to thin air.
Yep. This day was already a write-off, and it wasn't even 9AM.
18
ORION
"You're brooding more than usual," Colton said, sinking a three-pointer from the edge of the court. "And that's saying something."
I caught the ball as it bounced toward me, dribbling absently. The private gym was empty except for us, which was exactly why I liked coming here at 5:30 AM. Well, that and because Colton wouldn't shut up until I agreed to “hang” when he was in town.
"I'm not brooding," I said, taking a shot. It bounced off the rim.
"Right." Colton grabbed the rebound, his usual serious expression brightening with amusement. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the woman Remmy told me about, would it?"
I made a mental note to have a word with my sister about gossiping. "She's an employee."
"Who apparently got drunk at your mom's house and told you that your ass could cause physical injury."
The ball slipped in my hands. "I'm going to kill Remmy."
Colton laughed, the sound echoing off the gym walls. Despite his usually stern demeanor, he had one of those infectious laughs that seemed to come from deep in his chest. "Come on, man. When's the last time you actually dated someone? And don't say Stephie, because we both know that was just you trying to get your family off your back."
I took another shot. This one went in. "I don't have time to date."
"Because you're too busy measuring skirt lengths with rulers?"
"I hate all of you,” I said, chucking the ball toward Colton with more force than necessary.
"Look," Colton said, his voice turning serious as he caught the ball. "I know losing your dad young messed with you. Made you think you had to be perfect. In control. But you're allowed to actually live your life, you know?"