Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 138904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
“He’ll be out of here as soon as he finds something else. This would be a stopgap for him,” Tyler said. He rounded her desk to take the seat the man had just vacated. His words echoed her thoughts.
“I know.” She tossed him an irritated glare over the top of her glasses. “You’re really not helping the situation. The second girl—uh, Alison?—couldn’t stop staring at you. She looked terrified.”
“Alicia…and she wasn’t terrified. She slipped me her number when I escorted her out.”
Vicki’s lips formed an o, before she uttered the matching sound, “Oh. Well, that explains the staring, I suppose.”
She wondered what he’d done with the number. The girl—woman really, she was twenty-two—had been quite pretty. Blonde, with big brown eyes, and a blindingly white smile. Vicki hadn’t gotten a decent read on her because the woman had been so busy staring at Ty. But Alicia had just graduated from university and was looking for an internship that would help her gain experience in her events management career path. She was a good prospect on paper—young, eager to learn, and seeking decent work experience. Before the interview, Vicki had toyed with the idea of allowing her to assist with the wedding and party planning, with the aim of having her conduct solo client interviews in the future, freeing Vicki up to do so much more.
But Alicia had clearly had other things on her mind. Ty was a distraction in more ways than one, it seemed.
“The would-be florist was a good prospect,” Ty offered.
Vicki sighed. “She has zero experience. She saw the ad and decided that this would be a fun new thing to try. I appreciate people who are willing to learn, but I can’t help thinking that if she saw—I don’t know—a dog grooming ad in the paper in a few months’ time, she’d be off in a flash, following her new dream.”
Ty nodded. “An accurate read of her personality. I got the same impression.”
“Then why did you say she was a good prospect?” Vicki asked, exasperated.
He grimaced. “Sorry, I figured you needed to hear something encouraging after the day you’ve had.”
“I prefer honesty over platitudes, thanks.”
His lips quirked… An almost smile that hitched her breath for a second before she released it on a quiet, disappointed sigh when she realized that a fully-fledged smile was not forthcoming.
“Noted. I’ll be sure to remain brutally honest in future.”
Vicki removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes, speaking while she did so, “To be honest, I had high hopes for Alicia. But her performance in the interview was abysmal. I can’t have her here if she’s going to spend the days mooning over you instead of focusing on her work.”
She replaced her glasses just in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of something resembling unease on Ty’s face. The odd expression was smoothed over so quickly, she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it or not.
“Why don’t you re-interview her? I’ll make myself scarce. I don’t think she’ll toss any paperweights or coffee mugs at your head or anything.”
“Too soon, Ty…too soon.”
He scowled. “I know. Brand nearly tore me a new one because of it.”
“You told him about it?” She couldn’t keep the dismay out of her voice.
“I had to.”
“Which means you probably told him about Saturday too, right?”
His expression didn’t change at all when he nodded.
“Why do you have to be such a bloody boy scout?”
“Habit.”
The succinct response made her pause. “You were a boy scout?”
“Cub scout.”
“That sounds adorable. Is that why you enlisted?”
His lips quirked again, and this time those rugged dimples made a cameo appearance. “Hardly. My dad thought it would be a fun bonding exercise.”
“And was it?”
“It was okay.”
She absently clicked her pen as she considered that. She couldn’t see him as a little boy. He was so big and masculine, it was hard to picture him vulnerable, possibly skinny, with scraped knees and with those very light freckles on his nose darker and more visible. She imagined that ruthlessly short hair had been allowed to grow and curl or wave or tousle…or whatever it was prone to do. Possibly it had been lighter and sun streaked.
“Do you see your parents often?”
His lips tightened and his face—which had marginally softened while he’d spoken of his father—closed up tighter than a fist. It was as if he suddenly realized that he had allowed her to catch a glimpse of his jealously guarded inner self.
“Never mind,” she said before he could verbalize the rejection she could see in his eyes. “I gather the topic is off limits.”
“My parents are dead.” The reluctantly ceded snippet of information surprised her, and she immediately regretted asking. Because now she wanted to know more, and she knew he would not offer more.
The certainty of rejection still didn’t deter her from prying, though. “I’m sorry to hear that. Was it…did it happen recently?”