Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
ElizaBeth: Have you dated me before? Is that the question? Because if so, the answer is no.
ThunderStruck: Why’d it take so long to answer? And are you trying to be funny? Because from where I sit, shit is starting to feel a little fucking shady.
ElizaBeth: I’m not trying to be shady or funny. When I try to be funny, people laugh. What happened? Seriously? What’s going on? Because I thought we had something going here. Sure, it started as intel because I wanted to make sure you didn’t get screwed over, but I don’t know. I thought…I thought we were enjoying each other.
ThunderStruck: Do you actually work at Banks & McKenzie?
ElizaBeth: Yes.
ThunderStruck: And you fucking swear we’ve never dated before?
ElizaBeth: Yes. I swear. We’ve never dated.
I stare at her message for a long moment before I decide to stop beating around the bush.
ThunderStruck: And your name isn’t Bethany?
Her response is instant.
ElizaBeth: HA. No. My name is NOT Bethany, but now I understand why you’re so worked up. That would definitely be some real shady shit. But hey, I guess she’s already done some shady stuff in the past, so why not this? I get why you’d be on edge.
I breathe a sigh of relief. And more than that, I actually believe her.
ThunderStruck: Well, thank fuck for that. I’m driving myself crazy. I didn’t think you could be her, but once the intrusive thought struck, I couldn’t get rid of it.
ElizaBeth: But doesn’t that make this kind of fun, though? The not knowing?
ThunderStruck: Is it fun that I’m messaging with a mystery woman who works at my dad’s company? I mean, I guess it is if I ignore the fact that it’s pretty fucking reckless on my part.
ElizaBeth: LOL. I know it seems risky, but I promise you that whatever is said in this chat stays between us. For both of our sakes.
ThunderStruck: It also helps that you can’t take screenshots in it.
ElizaBeth: Very true. Five stars and a unicorn sticker for that idea on Hughes International’s design team.
ThunderStruck: A unicorn sticker?
ElizaBeth: The ultimate prize, obviously. And, I guess you could also consider these little chats of ours as, like, research, you know? You are spearheading a campaign for it after all…
ThunderStruck: Haha.
ElizaBeth: What? Why’s that funny?
ThunderStruck: It’s like you’re giving me a free pass, even though we both know this isn’t exactly a good idea for me.
ElizaBeth: Well, I know I’m anonymous, but I CAN share that I’m not a domestic terrorist, an active deployment in corporate espionage, or a member of any of the alphabet agencies…at this time. Can’t predict the future, of course.
Man, she’s funny. I came into this conversation like a Grade A asshole, and still, she’s managed to turn the whole thing around in the blink of an eye.
ThunderStruck: And your age?
ElizaBeth: Somewhere between 23-34. I’m out of school, but I’m not your grandma either. Though, wouldn’t that make for a fun little diddy at Christmastime?
ThunderStruck: Anything else I should know about you?
ElizaBeth: Well…this one is actually hard for me to say…
ThunderStruck: What is it?
ElizaBeth: I got way too curious about Donny’s balloon fetish. The things I found on Google were DISTURBING. I should probably hate you for putting that into my head.
ThunderStruck: Technically, I didn’t tell you to research it. If anything, I spared you from all the freaky details.
ElizaBeth: Wait…so…you’re not even going to offer an apology?
ThunderStruck: It’s not my fault your curiosity got the best of you.
ElizaBeth: You’re evil. I’m totally pouting right now.
ThunderStruck: And I’m sitting here thinking about how your pouting is really fucking adorable right now. If only I could see it in person…
ElizaBeth: Nice try. LOL.
ThunderStruck: How about you tell me some more things I should know about you?
ElizaBeth: More things about me? Well…I like the sound of the rain, but I hate thunderstorms. And I’m not a Disney adult, but sometimes I get scared that I could be a closeted one.
ThunderStruck: What the fuck are Disney adults?
ElizaBeth: You know, the people who love going to Disney World, to the point of wearing Mickey ears and Minnie Mouse sweatshirts even though they have no kids.
ThunderStruck: Why do you think you could be a closeted one?
ElizaBeth: This is so cheesy, but…I really want to believe in happily ever afters.
ThunderStruck: What’s holding you back from believing now?
ElizaBeth: Everything.
ThunderStruck: I think you need to let that go. You need to let yourself believe.
ElizaBeth: That’s easier said than done, you know? My childhood didn’t inspire hope for Prince Charming.
ThunderStruck: Is that what you want? Prince Charming?
ElizaBeth: That would be a big fat no. He’s too…predictable. Too…boring.
ThunderStruck: I think Cinderella would disagree.
ElizaBeth: Yeah, but I’m not her biggest fan either.
ThunderStruck: And what exactly do you have against her? The poor girl was mistreated by that evil stepmother of hers and worked for everything she got.