Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Hell no.”
“Then why do you need to sacrifice what you really want in a car? Besides, there’s plenty of room. Believe me, I wouldn’t let you get something too small.”
Her eyes were glued to the shiny silver convertible.
Gia was caving. “I guess we can test drive it.”
I winked. “That’s my girl.”
We went to take it out, and the dealer had some nerve trying to get into the passenger seat next to her this time.
I practically shoved him to the side. “Excuse me. I’ll be sitting in the front. And if you look at my girl’s tits again, not only are you gonna lose out on this deal, you’re gonna lose a mouthful of teeth.”
He swallowed and stayed quiet as he crawled into the backseat. Gia looked a little embarrassed, but my reaction shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her.
I barely remembered that he was even there once we took to the road. Gia had turned into a little speed demon in this thing, and I was loving it. Her wild hair was blowing all over the place, and all I could do was stare at her and enjoy every second of it.
This car would be worth every damn penny if I got to do this all the time.
Turning my head around to look at the back, I envisioned a car seat there and got chills. If only I could figure out what the chills were trying to tell me.
I’d finally caught up at work. Between the building project on the other side of town, the upcoming end-of-season party at The Heights, going back and forth to visit Edward, working on Gia’s hunk of shit, and going car shopping, I had a mile-long list of shit to do. But I came in at the ass crack of dawn this morning and tackled most of it by the time the dinner rush started pouring in. This time of the year, with the end of the season fast approaching, we were always extra busy.
I went behind the bar to help Riley and Carly and took a drink order for a snobby silver spoon type standing with a woman way out of his league. He ordered a scotch. I carded him just to be a dick in front of his lady friend.
He grumbled as he dug his license from his wallet. “I’ve been standing here waiting for ten minutes, and I haven’t seen one person asked for proof of age.”
I looked at his license, checking out the address after the year of birth. Dune Road. Figures. Most expensive beachfront hood in the Hamptons. No wonder he’s able to snag her.
“When a young person orders an old man’s drink, half the time it means they’re trying to act mature because they’re not of age. You ordered a scotch on the rocks.”
He snatched his license from my hand. “Or, they have taste. And we’ll take a pinot noir.”
Dune Road’s lady friend gave me a flirty smile from behind him. Yeah, I don’t blame you, sweetheart. I poured their drinks and hit him for an extra four bucks on his bill—my own personal douchebag tax. Of course, he paid with a black card.
When they were done, he told her he wanted to go out to the back deck. As he turned to walk away, his girlfriend leaned to the bar. “What’s it mean the other half of the time?”
It took me a minute to realize she was referring to my comment that dudes who order old men drinks were under age half the time. I leaned close to respond. “The other half of the time, they’re just douchebags.” She laughed and followed her cash cow out back.
After helping a few more people, I noticed the bar started to slow down so I went to help our hostess. She didn’t look like she had too much to handle, but her ass looked spectacular in the new skirt she wore tonight, and I thought I’d let her know about that.
“Is that a maternity skirt?” I snuck up behind her and spoke over her shoulder. “You look extra sexy tonight.”
“It is. It’s so comfortable and stretchy. I could probably fit you inside of it with me.”
I wanted inside, alright.
“That sounds like a challenge. You know how much I like a good…” I halted mid-sentence seeing a familiar woman walk into the restaurant. Is that Lauren? At first I thought it was. But she didn’t look like her usual put together self. She had on a baggy T-shirt and a pair of yoga pants, and when she took off her sunglasses her eyes were puffy and red. It wasn’t until she saw me and started making her way over that I was certain it was even her.
Unaware of who had just walked in, Gia turned around because I’d trailed off. “Rush?”