Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 84344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Chapter 6
Alex
“Thank you so much, Jamie.” I hold out my hand to shake his. “The kids are going to love all the new gear.” He works for Hauer, the leading hockey equipment company in the country, and has graciously donated all new gear to the twenty kids who won the scholarship for the summer.
“It was great working with you, Alex.” He smiles at me. “You should let me take you out for a drink to celebrate.” I look at his perfectly styled black hair with his brown eyes. I think about it for point one second before I let him down.
“Thank you, but I don’t like to mix business with pleasure,” I answer him honestly. “Can you imagine? We go out, and obviously, I’m fabulous.” He laughs at that, nodding his head. “And for whatever reason, things don’t work out? It’ll be awkward for both of us.”
“You have a point there,” he says. “But if I ever leave this job, you can bet your ass I’m going to keep your number.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Fair enough.” I smile at him as he walks away. “Why can’t you just fall for someone else?” I mumble to myself as my phone rings in my pocket. I take it out and see it’s Julia. “Hey, ho.” I can hear her chuckle. I met Julia when Michael had a one-night stand with her sister, and they created the most amazing little boy I’ve ever met. We instantly clicked, and she is really my best friend, that is after Dylan. Dylan, who I’ve thought about all day long. Dylan, who all I do when I close my eyes is hear him say he sees himself married with children. Dylan, who I love with every fiber of my being. Dylan, who I have to get over. Dylan, who I have to slowly fall out of love with.
“Hey, ho, yourself.” Her voice is less than chipper.
“What happened?” My voice goes soft as I walk back to my office.
“Are you free for lunch?” she asks, and I look at my watch.
“It’s three o’clock,” I say, walking into my office and sitting in my chair.
“I just had to pry a seven-year-old girl off her dead mother’s body,” she says, and my heart stops in my chest. I don’t know how Julia does it every single day. She works for Child Protective Services, and I can just imagine the stories she has.
“I can leave in five minutes. Where do you want to go?” I ask, turning off my computer and grabbing my purse. “Or do you want to come here?”
“As much as I love chicken fingers and French fries.” She laughs. “I need some whiskey and wings.”
“Fine, let’s meet at Louie’s.” I suggest the bar we always go to.
“Deal.” She hangs up, and I turn around to head out. The heat hits me right away, and I groan. I love hot, but this hot is almost too much.
When I pull up to the restaurant, I find parking around the corner, and the sound of my heels click on the pavement as I make my way inside. I pull open the glass door and look around. I’m surprised so many people are already here, but the televisions playing in the corners have the baseball game on. The hostess stand sits empty with the “please let us seat you” sign.
“Alex.” I hear Julia call me and look over to find her sitting at a table against the window. Turning, I make my way to her, and she stands. “You just strutted over here like you are on a catwalk.” I laugh and shake my head. “I wish I could pull off your style.” This morning when I got up, I almost dreaded that he would hear me and come ask if I wanted coffee. I was up way before my alarm, turning it off not to make noise, and when I peeked into his room, he was on his stomach with his head facing away from the door. I quietly shut the door so as not to wake him. I grabbed the first thing in my closet, which was the light gray high-waisted pants I am wearing that tie around the waist. The black bodysuit molds to my chest and comes up to my neck with small spaghetti straps holding it up. My shoulders and arms are bare. I laugh at her and sit in the chair in front of her. “Instead, I look like a poor Ellen DeGeneres.”
“Shut up.” I laugh at her.
“Those shoes alone are a kill.” I roll my eyes.
“Shoes are my jam,” I say, looking down at the black heels I’m wearing. They have a strap around the toes and they crisscross to tie around my ankle. If I’m honest, I dressed up way more than I needed to today, and I’m trying to tell myself that it was to make me feel better. “So how bad was today?”