Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Really?”
“Well, not astrology, no. I think that’s all… well, doesn’t matter what I think. But you’ve gotta trust your instincts sometimes. Do things your own way.”
Pleasantly surprised by his openness, I smile. “So does that mean you’ll let me read your natal chart?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Come on,” I plead. “I want the practice. All I need is your birthday, time, and location.”
“Oh, well. Let me just dash next door and dig up my birth certificate. Can I get you my ID while I’m at it? Passport? Social Security card?”
“I get it.” I hold up my hand. “You don’t want to be nice and neighborly.”
“I’m helping the world’s most uncoordinated woman build a greenhouse. My neighborly patience has its limits.” He flips through another of my astrology books, the one on planetary transits.
I watch him for a moment. “Are you still hung up on Willow? Is that why talking about her makes you so grumpy?”
He doesn’t even look up.
“Probably not,” I muse. “I read on one of those websites that has more ads than content that you’ve been dating some… I forget. Publicist? Agent? Some Hollywood person.”
“Your horoscope have anything about you driving me nuts today?” he asks. “Because it just might be on to something.”
“No,” I say, unoffended, because apparently I’m getting used to him. “But supposedly I’m going to use a moment of experimental spontaneity—a first, if you will—to try to put off a phone call I’m supposed to make.”
His blue gaze flicks over to me. “Let me guess. You’ve managed to come up with a moment and a potential phone call that could fit the horoscope?”
“Yes. This is a first, actually,” I say, lifting the beer bottle and pointing at it. “I don’t make a habit of drinking on Wednesday afternoons, and definitely not beer.”
“And the phone call?”
I take a sip of the beer, eyes lifting to the ceiling as I sip so I don’t have to look at him.
He chuckles. “Ah. A dude.”
I stay stubbornly silent, and he shakes his head. “Come on, Randy. You’ve already creeped on my love life. Make us even.”
I bite my lip, realizing that maybe getting a male perspective wouldn’t be the worst thing ever, even if it’s from the worst source ever.
“I met a guy a couple weeks ago. Christian. He sort of saved my life.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Archer mutters in exasperation.
“No, seriously! He pulled me out of the street just as a car ran a red light and was about to hit me.”
“That must have been a challenge for him. From atop his white horse in all that armor.”
“Mock all you want, but there was a moment. A click. A mutual one,” I say before he can dismiss this. “He gave me his card and said I should call him.” I go to the drawer where I’ve stashed the card and pull it out so I can prove it.
“Well, that’s more promising than expected. I thought you were just waiting for the wind to blow him back your way.”
I glare at him.
Archer flicks a thumb over the corner of the card. “So why haven’t you called him? Is it because talking about him has made your voice all fluttery and annoying? God only knows what happens when you talk to him.”
“Thank you. This is all very encouraging.”
“I’m not really known for my pat-on-the-ass pep talks.”
“I’m shocked.”
He picks up the card. Studies it. Then hands it back. “Just do it already.”
“I can’t… I can’t just do it. These things take planning.”
“Nope. They shouldn’t.”
“But—hey!”
Archer swipes my cell off the counter, holds it up to my face to unlock it, and dangles it out of my grasping reach as he dials the phone number on Christian’s card.
He tucks it against my ear, and I have a split second to register that enticing, mysterious scent of his before the phone begins ringing.
“Damn it, Archer, I don’t want—Christian!” I say a little too loudly when he picks up on the second ring. “Hello. Hi. Hello. This is Dr. Miranda Reed?”
“Smooth,” Archer mouths.
I give him a glare.
“Dr. Reed!” Christian says. “When you didn’t call, I started worrying I came on too strong…”
“Not at all. I was just…”
Waiting for my horoscope to give me the go-ahead.
“I was just…” I flounder. “Thinking.”
Archer shakes his head with a sigh, then grabbing his beer off the counter with one hand, he gives me a pat on the butt with the other.
“What was that?” I hiss, covering the phone with my hand.
“Pat-on-the-ass pep talk,” he mutters. “Believe me, you need it.”
LIBRA SEASON
The Sun is fully in Libra, and you’ll be feeling that in a big way today, dear Gemini. Libra season is a great time to build relationships, and you’ll begin one today with lasting impact.
Christian wants to see me.
Yay!
As a potential tutor for his daughter.
Yay?
When I’d told Daphne about the conversation, she’d sounded disappointed on my behalf. And she’d had a point. Would it have been a little more heart fluttery if he’d asked me to drinks? Or dinner? Or as long as we both shall live?