Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
While I appreciate his concern, I barely know the guy. No way am I letting him put me up in a room, or even stay with him. No way. I’ve served him a week’s worth of meals, and we’ve exchanged small talk. That does not translate to a sleepover, or a hey, let me put you up for the night. Granted, the over-the-top tips he’s been leaving are going to go a long way in helping me repair my car. Just when I thought I might be able to get ahead, have a little extra in the bank for an emergency, said emergency rears its ugly head.
Such is my life.
Glancing at the clock, I see I have to be at work in an hour. I need to get my ass in gear. Grabbing my purse and making sure I have my keys to the car that doesn’t run, I head out after double-checking that the door is locked. Speaking of, I’m surprised “the gang” as I call them are missing from the front stoop. They’re not really a gang; at least, I don’t think they are. It’s weird that their catcalls don’t greet me, as well as the cloud of smoke and fumes of the alcohol on their breath. I shake out of my thoughts with a small smile. I’m worried about a group of men who have more times than not scared the hell out of me, if only Owen could hear my thoughts. I’m sure he would have something to say about missing them.
By the time I make it to work, I’m a sweaty hot mess. Thankfully, I brought my uniform rather than wore it, and some deodorant to freshen up. My first stop is the staff restroom and I do just that, before rushing to the break room to call the repair shop.
* * *
Tying my apron around my waist, I make sure I have a pen and my notepad. I’m surprised when I look up into the vibrant blue eyes of Owen.
“Hey.” I give him an awkward wave. “I’m, uh… not used to you being here this early.”
“What time do you get off?”
Okay, no small talk. Got it. “Closing.”
“You closed last night. It’s eleven now. That’s a twelve-hour shift.”
“Can you honestly tell me you’ve never worked a twelve-hour shift?” I ask, my hands on my hips.
“That’s different?”
“Right,” I scoff. “Look, Owen, like I said last night, I’m a big girl. I can handle it. Maria needed the day off, and I offered to work for her. I can use the extra money,” I say, groaning internally. That last part slipped out. I didn’t mean to say it, but as with every time I’m around him, I tend to open my mouth and word vomit just happens.
“Have you heard anything about your car?” he asks, ignoring everything I said.
“No.” I sigh. “I had to wait until I got here to call.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have a home phone or a cell phone.”
“What? You can’t stay there alone without a phone.”
“I’ve been fine the past seven years without one.”
He inhales loudly. “Layla,” he says, exasperated.
“Owen, table for one?” I ask him.
“Fine,” he says through his teeth. I have to fight back my grin. Owen pissed off is kind of comical, especially since he has no merit. This is my life, and he has no say so. We’re not even friends, simply acquaintances. “Same table?” I ask.
“No. Here is fine.” He walks to a table not far from the main entrance, that just so happens to be in my section.
“What can I get for you?” I ask, pulling my order pad out of my pocket.
“Grilled chicken sandwich and fries, sweet tea.” He hands me the menu. “Where did you have your car towed?”
“Parker’s. I’ll be right out with your tea.” I don’t stick around for his reply. “Sexy, infuriating man,” I grumble, standing at the computer to enter his order.
“Hey now, what did I do this time?” Oliver asks.
“Not you.”
“Come on, Layla. You know you want me.” He holds his arms open as if showing off his body.
I will admit he’s easy on the eyes. He has shaggy blond hair, big brown eyes, and you can tell he takes care of his body. However, when he opens his mouth, it all goes to hell. He’s as conceited as they come, and spoiled. I like my men to have a little more depth. Not that there have been many men in my life. I’ve dated here and there, but nothing serious. I work all the time to survive, and that’s not conducive to a social life. I’m better off. There are some crazy people out there. I’ve dated a few and luckily dodge further dates.
“Uh-huh.” I laugh at his antics. “You keep telling yourself that, buddy.”
“Hey.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders. “We’d make a good team, you and me.”