Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“No money to spare on fancy iPads,” I said with a shrug.
Xavier nodded, surprising me by not making a snide comment about my financial situation. For him the concept of not having money for anything was probably foreign.
He led me toward the kitchen and pointed at a massive chrome machine— some sort of coffee maker, I assumed. “This is one of your most important work tools.”
I sent him a look. “A coffee maker so I can prepare coffee for you?”
“It’s an espresso unit, and you’re going to make cappuccino for me with a double espresso shot. Every morning.”
I blinked. “You realize I’m not a barista? I don’t even know how to turn that thing on, much less how to make a cappuccino. That wasn’t part of my bachelor’s program.” My snide tone wasn’t one I would have usually used on an employer, but Xavier’s grin pushed all my buttons.
“I’m sure you’re a quick learner, Evie.”
It was the first time he said my name, and I enjoyed it more than I should have. “Do I have to make you breakfast as well?” I asked, proud for making my voice come out matter-of-fact this time.
“No, I follow a strict breakfast regime to fuel my body for training. I’m not letting anyone mess with my protein shakes.”
I wasn’t sure if he was shitting me or being serious, but eventually I opted for the latter. After all, he was a top athlete. No muffins and sugary cereal for him. Again I cursed myself for wearing the fitted dress. “Okay. Cappuccino with a double shot of espresso in the morning.” I paused. “How am I supposed to know when you want your coffee? I’m not having sleepovers, so I won’t know when you’re waking up. Or do you have a set time when you need me to prepare a cappuccino for you?”
Xavier smirked. “Let me show you the second floor. It’ll all come together soon.”
He was toying with me. Narrowing my eyes at his broad back, I followed him up a winding staircase toward a gallery—which was also the huge open bedroom with another heart-stopping view of the Sydney harbor.
The bed, which would have dwarfed any bedroom of a normal size, was positioned against a wall that had been installed in the center of the room. As I walked behind it I found an open bathroom with a massive free-standing bathtub and a floor-level shower as well as a walk-in closet behind another wall. Xavier waited for me in the bedroom as I walked back.
“This is my bedroom, as you can see. A place where you’ll spend much more time in the future.”
My eyebrows shot up. “This is only work. I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“Easy, there,” he said with a grin. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Of course not. I tugged at my dress, hoping it didn’t emphasize my wide hips too much.
Xavier motioned at the bed. “But you are going to wake me up so I’m not late to training or other appointments.”
I laughed, then shut up when Xavier raised his eyebrows. He was being serious. Really? He needed a human alarm clock? “You want me to come over to your apartment every morning and wake you?”
“Yes, except on the days you’re taking the day off.”
Touching the pen to the notebook pages and taking a deep, calming breath, I asked, “When would you like me to wake you?”
“I have training at ten every morning except for the weekend. On the weekend it depends. As soon as the season starts in March, we’ll be either traveling to away matches or have games here. It would be best if you synchronized your calendar with mine and just took a look yourself.”
I took out my phone and did just that, then also got hold of his work email, and almost fainted seeing the sheer number of unanswered emails. “When was the last time you checked your inbox?”
“I don’t. That’s my assistant’s job, and I haven’t had an assistant in over two weeks.”
I repeated a little calming mantra in my head. “I’ll work through them tonight and sort them according to importance.”
“You also need to handle my mail and my social media accounts. I try to handle my own Instagram, but the rest is all yours.”
“All right.” Besides training at ten in the morning tomorrow, Xavier also had an afternoon appointment marked as beach workout and an event marked N10 party at nine p.m.
“What does beach workout mean?”
“What it says,” Xavier said. “I’m doing a beach workout and you’re going to film it so we can post it for my fans on Instagram, Facebook, YouTube.”
Camerawoman, another job I hadn’t expected. “I assume the party isn’t my concern?”
“It is your concern. It’s Network Ten’s party, and I’m supposed to make an appearance to give the party some glamour. You will accompany me, in the background, to tell me about the other guests, their names, their function, and make sure I don’t misbehave too much.” The panty-dropping grin.