Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Glancing at the clock, I see it’s almost three. I’ve got to submit a report by three-thirty. My mind simply hasn’t been cooperating, held captive by thoughts of Felix’s towering body, his bulging chest, sculptured forearms, and the way he stares like nobody else exists…
No, that’s in my fantasies. He’s never looked at me that way.
I’ll have to crunch to get the report done in time. If I type super-fast, I should be able to get down everything I need before my boss, Julia, sees me procrastinating and charges out here, grimacing as she waves her famous waggling, angry finger.
But first… the temptation is too high. I reach for the top desk drawer, where my phone is. I want to reread the text where he offers to take me out and calls me mystery girl. Despite knowing how differently he’d feel if he saw me in person, the words mystery girl make my chest tingle, as though my heart is sparkling.
The moment I pull my drawer out, I realize my mistake.
Julia bolts up from her desk and stalks out into the communal office area. A few of my colleagues look up, but most know to keep their attention fixed stubbornly on their computer screens when Julia goes on the rampage.
I drop my hand and turn to my computer screen, but it’s too late.
“What were you doing?” Julia snaps.
She’s not a physically imposing woman. At just over five feet, she’s slenderly built and has neat black hair tied in a ponytail. But her eyes are wide and manic, and she seems to get a sick thrill out of talking down to those under her, at least when she can justify it.
I sigh. There’s no point lying. At least, no point in completely lying.
“I was going to check my phone,” I tell her.
She folds her arms, tapping her foot on the floor, reminding me of a teacher getting ready to dish out punishment. I was never in trouble much in high school, but I remember the way some of the teachers would relish it, almost grinning at the kids as they made them wait.
“At least you have the sense not to lie,” she says. “But you know – and I know you know – and you know I know… checking your phone is against the rules. We’re here to work, not melt our brains on our cells.”
I nod. “I’m sorry.”
“What were you checking that’s so important?”
My cheeks glow. There’s no way I’m going to tell her about getting the CEO’s phone number from her office.
I try to think of a suitable lie. There are so many I could choose from, so many reasonable responses I could give, and yet I find myself stumbling over my words. It’s the way she’s staring at me like she wants me to trip up.
“Checking if my boyfriend responded.”
“You have a boyfriend?”
Her tone stings me. I would prefer it if she sounded outright hostile or like she was trying to be mean.
But the way she asks it is a matter of fact, as though she’s genuinely surprised. It’s like she can’t compute that I, of all people, could attract a man.
I sit up straighter, masking my shame. “Yes, I do, actually. An older man. But he’s not texting back.”
My lips move quicker than my thoughts, the words bursting out of me. I try to rein them in, to remind myself I’m walking dangerous ground here. But it’s not as though she’s going to guess it’s the boss.
“Oh.” Her expression softens. “That can be very, very frustrating. But you should know better than to check it during work.”
I flinch. Surely this isn’t it. I thought she was going to launch into one of her tirades.
My reaction must be clear on my face.
Narrowing her eyes, almost pained, she leans forward and looks side to side to make sure nobody else is listening.
“I went through a divorce before you started work here, Fiona,” she says softly. “Men can be the best and worst thing that ever happens to us. But please – no more phones, okay?”
A relieved breath escapes me as I nod. “Okay, yes. I’m sorry.”
She turns and walks away, leaving me feeling like a hostile ass for immediately assuming Julia was going to scream at me. At least I’m clear there.
But I still need to write the report.
Okay, no more screwing around. The Felix thing was a dream, to begin with, nothing more, and now it’s over.
It’s time to focus on my job, earning money, and paying rent.
It’s time to live in the real world.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Felix
How many days has it been?
That’s the thought that wakes me up, the same one that’s jolted me from sleep ever since we had our final text exchange. As I peel my eyes open, staring at the sunlight glowing on the ceiling, I get the answer.