Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
I must keep a leash on my dick.
“The restaurants won’t be taking any losses, that’s for sure,” she says. “And it might help prevent food waste—some folks have been going out rather than eating at The Cardinal, which this new menu might help avoid.”
I hold up my hands. “All right, I see your point. I told you to follow the data. If it says changing up the food works, then let’s go for it.”
“A vote of confidence? From you?”
Her dimple shows up again. I want to bite the back of my wrist.
“I’m not incapable of compliments, you know.” I glance at her menu draft before leaning back in my chair, pushing it onto the back two legs. “I’ll admit, you surprised me.”
“You mean surprised you without letting my kid ruin another suit?”
I can’t help smiling.
“It was a rocky start. It doesn’t mean shit now.” Understatement of the year.
“I thought you were going to fire me right there,” she says wryly.
“I wanted to. But you came here with a recommendation that carries some weight. I had to give you a chance.”
“And how much do you regret that now?”
My smile disappears.
She doesn’t understand.
I don’t regret it at all—and that thought makes me slam the chair back on all fours.
“You’re doing well. Everything I’d expect in this role, plus churning out new ideas that matter,” I tell her. “The Cardinal’s better with your care and we’re looking profitable. I’d be a damn fool to regret anything.”
“I feel like there’s a but coming…” Her gaze flicks away.
“No but this time. I’ll even admit Arlo seems like a good kid—if he’d just rein in his sugar highs and cool it on the nicknames.”
“Oh, like Grumpybutt? You’re still mad?” She laughs. “I mean, it was bad of him, but you’ve got to admit it suited you.”
“I don’t have to admit anything.” I shake my head. “You realize you’re talking to the fun one out of my brothers, right?”
The guy who never gets taken seriously, I don’t say.
“You?” She blinks at me.
“Who else? Archer’s life has been about business before there was a business. He’s too sensible and he has a lump of coal where his heart should be. Dex, he was the workaholic. Way more than me back in his bachelor days, if you can believe.” I shrug because it’s not true anymore. “I’m the little brother. The guy who has to work twice as hard if I want their punk asses to take me seriously.”
“So, you’re the one who knows how to relax? When there isn’t something to prove, I mean?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” I’m incredulous.
She considers it, looking me up and down with a straight face.
“You kinda suck,” she says, breaking into a smile that kills me. “But not all the time. I’ll give you that.”
Holy shit, stop the presses.
“Is that a compliment?”
She ducks her head as her cheeks burst pink, a few more strands of hair falling from her bun. No surprise, really. Her hair looks so silky it’s amazing it stays pinned up at all.
I wonder how she’d feel if I brushed them back behind her ears.
Would I be able to do it without giving in to the urge to fist her hair?
Shit, what would her skin feel like under my fingers? It’s been so long and she was so soft, I’ve almost forgotten how—
No.
Dangerous, dangerous thoughts.
“Sorry for dumping the Minnesota research on your pile,” I say. Back to work. Safe ground. “It’s helping, though, and we’re closing in on a decision soon. I can stick around and help you sort the latest stuff, if you’d like.”
Her finger stills from tapping her desk idly. She sends me a compulsive glance.
“Help?”
“I’ve been doing the legwork with new ventures for a while. While it’s all very tentative right now, we’re looking at moving forward. We just need a little more time to ensure the big investment in these cabins will pay off.”
“I never thought it wasn’t serious,” she says, but she doesn’t start working again. She also doesn’t look at me. The desk holds all her attention. “And I appreciate the offer, but I work on stuff like this better when I’m alone.”
“You’re like me, then.”
“What? You’re a spreadsheet loner, too?”
“Something like that. Not having to constantly communicate every last thought feels refreshing; it streamlines things. Even if teamwork is a necessity.”
“Your brothers are that hard on you, huh?”
I glare.
“I wouldn’t call that teamwork, more like obligation. Still, we get along well enough to keep growing. We can cooperate.”
“It’s funny. Before I came here, I never imagined there was so much internal friction with the articles written about Higher Ends. You’re lucky the press hasn’t picked up on it,” she says, and I can’t tell if she’s teasing.
“We’re mature enough to keep our shit-flinging private.”
“Smart.” She nods, tucking a lock of that dark hair behind her ear. “I actually had something I wanted to ask you, though…”