Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
For some inexplicable reason, the sight of him instantly sparks an idea. “Hey Merrick, got a minute?”
He stops, spins around, and scrunches his sculpted face. “Like a literal minute, boss lady.” He adjusts the textbook in his hand that he must’ve left here at some point. “Just came by to grab this while I was in the neighborhood. I’ve gotta give the future Mrs. McCoy’s car an oil change-”
“Wait! You’re engaged?!”
“More or less,” the tattooed art student cockily states in a brush off fashion. “Anyway, I gotta do that, go through another BS roommate interview, submit a design to Katherine’s agent who ordered a custom mural for her kitchen – thanks again for putting me in contact with Katherine because my side hustle is now booming –, hopefully pass this essay exam in my afternoon class, and then eventually be back here on time for my shift.”
“Um…,” shocked over his busy life leaves me momentarily speechless, “that’s um…quite a schedule.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” His smile grows much wider. “What’d you need, boss?”
“Let’s walk and talk.” My chin kicks the direction we both already going. Once he’s closer in proximity, I cautiously begin, “So…what I need help with is not exactly work-related.”
“Is it legal?”
Bafflement can’t be blocked from my expression. “Yes.”
He offers a hand of surrender at the same time he claims, “Just had to ask. Not tryin’ to get mixed up in any ‘ish on the wrong side of the law.”
Curiosity has me quirking an eyebrow.
“Jo’s dad basically runs the red and blue.” His free fingers type in the code to grant us access to the staff room. “Not trying to get back on his bad side.”
“Back on?”
“Not important,” he mumbles while holding the door open for me. “What’s the non-work-related favor?”
“Do you or anyone you know on campus that you trust – keyword here is trust – wanna make a few hundred bucks moving some boxes for me?”
A smile that’s almost impossible to resist quickly arrives on his face.
Why do I get the feeling that his girlfriend is constantly putty in his hands?
Then again…I’ve seen them together once or twice and typically, it’s actually him who is tripping all over himself for her.
It’s some of the sweetest most infuriating shit I’ve ever seen.
Like why can’t more people have that?
Fuck, why can’t I?
His investigation continues alongside our exit out of the employee door for the parking lot. “Where are these boxes going and how are we moving them?”
“From the moving truck into my new townhome.”
“When?
“Next weekend?”
“Didn’t wanna hire big time movers? Too expensive?”
“No. I actually have to cancel the movers that I already have scheduled for this week – again – due to another move-in issue. I then have to pay another cancellation fee for the change.” A heavy, exasperated sigh makes an unwanted escape. “It’s a huge effing mess, that no matter what I say they won’t make an exception for, plus, I’m tired of dealing with them and listening to them blame me – like every other company I’ve been dealing with lately – for the inconvenience rescheduling is causing. I would much rather pay the money to someone who is a bit more flexible – in case of another random mishap – and a lot less likely to break my shit for me being an overcomplicated customer through no fault of my own – I just wanna add.”
“Boss lady, you seem anything but complicated to me.”
And his adorable naive charm continues.
“But yeah. I see your point. And movers do fuck up shit all the time.” He comes to an abrupt halt; I assume because his car is the opposite direction of mine. “I can help you out. I can find a friend or two to help me move your shit with care.”
“Seriously?” Relief prepares to plop onto my shoulders for the first time all morning. “You don’t mind?”
“Nah.” He nonchalantly shrugs. “It’s cool. I’ll keep my next couple of weekends flexi to fit it in.” Another sly smirk slips onto his face. “I’ll use the extra cash to buy the future Mrs. McCoy something sparkly.”
There’s no stopping my head from falling to one side in another round of curiosity. “Does she know that you refer to her that way?”
“Oh yeah.”
“And she likes it?”
“Loves it,” he gushes prior to chuckling. “You know depending on the day.”
I lightly laugh, shake my head, and sigh, “Thanks for being willing to help, Merrick.”
“Anytime, boss lady.”
He parts one way on a wink leaving me to go the other with a second victory for the day under my belt.
Sure, my life is currently nothing more than a contorted, overcooked, unproperly sugared pastry, but moments like this prove it doesn’t have to stay that way.
That it won’t.
That if I just keep pushing along, one day at a time, eventually my life will shift.