Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
When Mr. Not Manager told me he spends his time in Seattle when he’s not traveling for work, I should have guessed he was going to Winthrope home base.
“I’m the biggest idiot who’s ever worked here, right? Be honest.” I laugh bitterly.
“Pippa, stop.” She grabs my shoulders and gives me a little shake.
I should have known better than to believe a stranger.
Especially a strange naked man in the running for world’s biggest footlong.
Will I ever learn?
And for the love of all that’s holy, will I stop thinking about his atrociously large—yeah.
“Look on the bright side. He’s a nicer tour guide than he is a boss,” Jenn says cheerfully.
I frown back.
Even my bones are frowning.
“Where’s the bright side?”
“He’s a huge, demanding, type A crazy workhorse—and I’m sure the A stands for asshat. I’ve never had to deal with him firsthand, thank God. But I’ve heard the stories. Other people had the audacity to make a mistake in front of him and it wasn’t pretty. Poor Robbie worked for two days without sleeping once to fix this screwup with some Facebooger ads.”
“So, what, he inherited this role? I know he didn’t start the company.”
“His grandparents did. You’ve probably seen Ross Winthrope in the news before? Kind of eccentric, very British, dresses like Willy Wonka on cannabis gummies... Brock came in and took the full reins just a couple years ago, not long after the hot new Chicago hotel opened.”
Wow. I’m at a loss for words.
I don’t even know what to do.
“I’ll give you a minute.” Jenn takes the hint and steps out to give me breathing space.
I stay holed up in the bathroom until I regain my composure.
Somehow, I mangle my way through the rest of the day even though I can’t focus on work at all.
When I get home, I find Maisy lying on the couch. Dad has an arm under her legs and another one under her arm, stooped over.
“What happened?” I ask.
“She fell asleep like always. Girl curls up like a kitten and passes out cold. I was just about to put her to bed.”
I gentle my voice as much as possible before I say, “Dad, you’re not supposed to be walking around without your cane. And Maisy’s a big girl now. She’s seventeen. You can’t lift her like she’s seven years old. You need—we need for you to take better care of yourself. Just wake her up.”
He gives me a deflated look and sighs as I collapse on the couch next to my sister. Maisy groans and rolls over.
Is he hurt or just annoyed?
I can’t tell.
“Aw, hell. She’s all tuckered out because she has to run after me. That’s not how it’s supposed to be, Pippa. I ought to be taking care of you girls instead of being this useless lump.”
“You’re never useless, Dad,” I say firmly. “And she’s just tired because she was on the phone with Kelly until one a.m. Probably chatting about some boy. Let me take care of it.” I pick her up and wait until she blinks and stands, then start guiding her toward her room.
Once I have Maisy settled down in bed, I come back and sit with Dad.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“Yeah, Maisy made pork chops. She left a plate in the microwave for you.”
“Thanks.” I stand. “Want anything else while I’m up?”
He glances at his nearly empty water jug. “I’m good.”
I grab it on my way to the kitchen anyway.
A few minutes later, I’m back with my plate of food and Dad’s freshly filled jug.
“Here you go.” I set it down beside him and dig into my food.
“So, how was your first day on the job?” he asks.
Crap.
Quick, think of the positives.
“Pretty decent. It’s fun working with Jenn—oh, and it has the best view in Seattle! They call it an observation deck, but it’s really this giant balcony that looks out over everything.”
“Not too shabby, honey.” He smiles at me, his green eyes twinkling. “Sure beats getting your nose pinched by a crab like I did my first day.”
I giggle. “But you were only fifteen!”
“And so damn wet behind the ears I didn’t know a salmon from a squid. Hell of a learning curve when I ran off from that little mountain town thinking I knew how to fish.” He smiles fondly, his mind somewhere else, probably back in Heart’s Edge, Montana, where he grew up a lifetime ago.
I let him yammer on about old times so there’s no reason to talk more about my day.
Of course, I don’t mention anything about the CEO from hell—or the fact that we accidentally kissed in Hawaii.
Dad doesn’t need another freaking heart attack.
“You worked like a mule on all your video stuff,” he says, finally shifting back. “Can’t believe you gave it up for nine-to-five.”
“...I guess that’s part of growing up, right? Also, FYI, I haven’t given up. Not totally,” I say, mostly to convince myself. “Smart people know when to cut their losses and shore things up again, don’t they?”