Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“That seems practical.”
“Here.” I extend the snake plant toward him. “I brought you this.”
He quirks a brow.
“It’s a sansevieria trifasciata, also known as a snake plant,” I say. “It improves air quality, reduces stress, and some say it even reduces inflammation and strengthens your immune system. Plus, it attracts money and good energy, and you can practically forget it exists, and it still won’t die. It’s a jack-of-all-trades, plant style.”
He nods as if he’s slightly confused. “Um, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Where should I put it?”
I take a quick look around the room.
Gannon’s office is half again larger than Tate’s and is situated in the corner of the building. Bookshelves line the wall behind his desk. Two doors on the far side of the room are closed. Where do they go? A small table with two chairs is situated in front of them. The long wall opposite the entrance is glass, giving a breathtaking view of Nashville.
“How about on the table behind me?” I ask.
“That works.”
“I can bring you a plant stand the next time I come if you want,” I say, getting the pot in place. “I have a black metal one that would look really nice in here.”
“Thank you, but that’s unnecessary.”
I step back and nod approvingly at my handiwork. Then I turn to Gannon. “Are you sure? You might want to use this table sometime.”
“If so, I’m sure we can move the plant to the floor.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Why are you here, exactly?”
I lift a brow. “Really?”
He leans back, a blasé look painting his features.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think Gannon Brewer didn’t like me. The man couldn’t look more apathetic if he tried. Lucky for me, I’ve had my fair share (or more) of encounters with sexy, powerful men who are used to being in control. Unfortunately for Gannon, I can see through him as easily as I can see downtown through his floor-to-ceiling windows.
“You don’t have to be mean anymore,” I say, teasing him.
“What are you talking about?”
I roll my eyes, leaning against a chair facing his desk. “Look, I’m not here to be your friend.”
“Oh, so you do just want me for my money.”
A grin lifts the side of his mouth, and it takes everything in me not to melt at his feet.
“If you’re offering alternative packages, I’d be happy to review them,” I say with a flirty smile.
His gaze darkens.
“But in lieu of those opportunities,” I say, “I’m here because Keisha asked me to swing by your office before I leave. She wanted to know if I was going on payroll as an employee or a subcontractor. I also don’t know how many days a week you want me to come.”
“How many days would you like to come, Miss Johnson?”
A blast of heat curls in my stomach. “In a perfect world, I’d come every day.”
He licks his bottom lip, grinning coyly.
“I could even come multiple times if that’s what you wanted.” My skin’s tingling as he undresses me with his eyes.
Gannon stands, running a hand down his chest to smoothen his tie. His jaw flexes beneath the sunlight streaming in through the windows. He’s tall, dark, and so freaking handsome—and he’s gluing me to my spot with nothing but a look.
Sweat dampens the back of my neck, and my breasts are heavy. Blood pumps through my body at double speed, and my lips fall apart to drag in cooler breaths of air.
“In this perfect world you speak of,” he says, his voice low and thick, “I’d have you coming every day. And I’d work you so hard that you’d beg to quit.”
“I think you underestimate me.”
“You’d go home sore,” he says, each word hanging in the air. “You’d be filthy and exhausted, wondering how in the hell you ever thought you could keep up.”
Each breath vibrates through my chest. Every exhale prickles the hair on the back of my head. I want to fire back, to hold my ground, but the way he pins me in place with his gaze steals the words from my tongue.
“And this, Miss Johnson, is why I didn’t want you to work here.”
I grin innocently up at him. “Why? Because you don’t want me getting dirty?”
“Because you’re trouble.”
He brushes against me on his way to the windows.
“I’m trouble?” I laugh. “You were the one who started the innuendos. I was merely answering your questions.”
His hands shove into his pockets as he turns his back to me.
I watch him for a long minute, and then two, giving him time to respond. But the longer I stand quietly, the quicker the power dynamic shifts to favor him. It’s nothing I haven’t experienced before, and I know what to do—leave while I still have a somewhat upper hand.
Leave him scratching his head instead of vice versa.
“All joking aside, I have openings on my schedule on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I don’t think it’ll take three days as soon as I get everything repotted, treated—that sort of thing. At that point, we can probably do two days.”