Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
After I’d left his place last night, I’d been sure I’d never see him again, so this moment felt so fucking cruel.
He’d said he was a stockbroker, hadn’t he? What the hell was this finance bro doing at Warbler as a vice president? And a VP of booking, no less. It meant he didn’t just work for my father—he worked closely with him.
“What happened to Huston?” I demanded, angry that no one had mentioned this new hire when I’d filled in for Irene earlier this week.
“He wants to retire,” my dad said, “but he agreed to stay on and help Noah with the transition.” My father’s concerned gaze bounced from me to Noah’s extended hand, which I was still ignoring. He had to utter it under his breath. “Don’t be rude.”
I clamped my teeth together and went to reach for the offered handshake, only to draw back my hand at the last second. Fuck. I was wearing those terribly unsexy yellow rubber gloves, the ones that went all the way to my elbows, and I pulled one off in such a hurry, the rubber snapped painfully against my skin.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said, clasping Noah’s hand.
It was just a basic handshake, but the contact of his skin pressed to mine sent sensations from last night flooding through my mind and body. Could he tell? His eyes widened, and he pulled in a short breath.
“She’s going to be helping us out here for the next few months,” my dad announced.
Noah dropped my hand like it was made of lead, but he kept his tone light and curious. “Yeah? With what?”
“She’ll be responsible for cleaning the office twice a week.”
I wasn’t sure if there was a flicker of disdain in his eyes, or if I just expected it to be there, projecting my shame onto him.
“Oh.” It looked like he hadn’t a fucking clue what to say to that. “That’s nice.”
“He’s paying me,” I said instantly—although I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like that made it any better.
“Yeah?” He gave a polite smile. “Do you do houses too?”
I don’t think his joking tone had meant to tease, but I couldn’t help myself. “Yours certainly needs it.”
“What?” my father asked.
Shit.
Shit! The alarm that ran through Noah’s expression was perfectly mirrored in my body.
“Uh . . . I mean, I assume,” I babbled. “Since you probably just moved in.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Moving is messy.” Noah lifted an eyebrow. “That’s why my place is such a disaster.”
My father was completely unaware of the subtext. “Is it? Well, I’m sure Charlotte would be happy to help you with that.”
“Oh, Dad, that’s okay—”
He didn’t seem to hear me, and his focus stayed with Noah. “I’ll give you her number, and you two should work something out.” He leaned into me, bumping his shoulder gently against mine. “I know this one could use the extra cash.”
God, kill me now.
I couldn’t argue with him.
Not in front of Noah, and also because I’d promised to agree to whatever my parents wanted. Plus, my dad wasn’t wrong—I did need the money. But my heart did a little somersault when I peered up at Noah.
For a split second, he looked like he’d just won some kind of battle.
Hadn’t he? He’d wanted my number last night, and I’d refused to give it to him. Now my father was going to hand it over . . . and I couldn’t do a thing to stop him.
But then Noah’s smug expression dropped away, like he’d just remembered I was his boss’s daughter and having any kind of relationship with me—even if it was just to clean his house—was a terrible idea.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said.
My father waved his hand. “Nonsense. She’d love to help, and I’m sure she’d be great.”
“Really, it’s okay,” Noah said. “My house isn’t that bad.”
“Didn’t you just use the word ‘disaster?’” As soon as the question was out of my mouth, I wished I could suck it back in. What the hell was wrong with me?
The pitch of my father’s voice lowered into seriousness. “Really, you’d be doing both of us a favor. Charlotte’s in debt, and she needs the work.”
Oh, my God. I stared wide-eyed at my dad and had to choke back the protest I wanted to make. The humiliation sliced through me, hot and stinging.
And I wasn’t the only one feeling it. Noah’s gaze darted away from me, like he wanted to pretend he hadn’t heard it, so he could avoid any secondhand embarrassment.
One thing was clear, though.
Noah didn’t want this arrangement any more than I did. Maybe my father couldn’t see the desperate plea in the other man’s eyes, but if he did, he chose to ignore it. He was unaware he was forcing this on a new employee, and that Noah probably felt trapped. He wasn’t going to say no to his boss.