Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“I haven’t lied to you,” he states, leaning back in the chair and resting his ankle on his knee.
“No, you’ve just kept the truth to yourself until you didn’t have a choice but to come clean.”
“Braxton!” Kathy exclaims, breaking our stare-down, and we turn to watch her walk into the room with a cup of coffee in her hand and a smile on her face.
“Kathy.” He stands to greet her with a kiss to her cheek.
“How was your trip? Did you and Hanna enjoy your time?” she asks, and his posture changes ever so slightly.
“It was business, Kathy,” he states quietly but firmly.
“I may be old, but I remember what it’s like to be young and—”
“Kathy,” he cuts her off, letting the warning in his tone hang in the air between them. What she’s implying registers, and that knot in my stomach moves to fill my chest. Lord in heaven, not only is he a liar; he’s a cheater. Why do I have such shit luck when it comes to men?
“Fine, fine.” She waves her hand around between them. “Did you have a chance to introduce yourself to Dakota?”
He turns toward me, and the look in his eyes is filled with an uncomfortable amount of familiarity. I silently beg him not to say that we know each other.
“Nice to meet you, Dakota.” He steps toward me, and I brace as he holds out his hand.
“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Adams.” I place my hand in his, despising the tingles that shoot up my arm and travel through my blood stream. I try to remove my hand from his, but his grip is firm. He smiles a devastating smile, one that shows off perfectly straight teeth and a slight dimple in his right cheek, a dimple I didn’t notice until now. I let out the breath I was holding when he finally releases me and moves back to the head of the table where he was seated before.
I go back to what I was doing, ignoring the heat I feel coming from his direction and his and Kathy’s quiet conversation. Once I’m finished, I start to head for the door, needing to get out of the room.
“Come take a seat, Dakota,” he says as my hand lands on the doorknob, and my shoulders sag.
I look over my shoulder and watch Kathy shake her head. “She’s not sitting in on this meeting. I just needed her help getting things set up.”
“Come sit down,” he repeats, staring at me and silently daring her to dispute him again. Knowing I need this job and that I don’t want to embarrass Kathy or myself, I walk toward the table as he pushes out the chair next to him. Taking the seat, I cross one leg over the other, unsure of what to do, because Kathy—who has always seemed to like me—is looking at me like she wants to remove my head with the pen in her hand. “Kathy, can you go make sure everyone is ready for the meeting?”
“Of course, Braxton,” she murmurs as she stands, giving me a strange look before walking across the room to the door and closing it behind herself.
“I need this job,” I hiss when his eyes come to me. “I don’t know what just happened, but I like Kathy, I like working here, and I need this job.”
Leaning across me, he ignores my statement and picks up the box in front of me on the table and opens it, pulling out a watch that looks similar to his and unclasping the band.
“Where’s your phone?”
“Why?”
“Let me see it.” He holds out his hand, so I give it to him without thinking and he taps it to the watch then a moment later, he looks at me. “Give me your hand.”
“Why?” I repeat and clasp my hands together in my lap, and his eyes flash with something I don’t understand, something that scares me but at the same time makes me feel butterflies in the pit of my stomach. Without answering my question, he pulls my hands apart, his fingers wrapping tightly around my wrist, not enough to cause pain but tight enough that I know it would be useless to try to get free. Working quickly, he buckles the wristwatch in place and then taps his wrist to mine, causing the watch to light up and flash in some strange code that is matching the one flashing on his.
“What is this?” I ask, studying the device that is now wrapped firmly around my wrist.
“It’s a watch that connects to your phone. It’s an IMG exclusive device, that links with all our products.”
“I don’t want it,” I tell him, tugging free from his hold. I start to pull at the band of the watch to remove it but freeze when he grabs my hand.