Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Please take it.” He shoves the money at me almost desperately.
Then, it dawns on me who this kid is.
“You were with him, weren’t you?” I ask. “Dawson. I remember now. You had your back to me, but it was you at the restaurant. Do you work with him?” I’m getting mad now because this is humiliating. I don’t need Dawson trying to swoop in and be chivalrous when he’s made it abundantly clear he wants nothing to do with me.
“Yes, but—”
I lean in close, and the boy steps back, as I interrupt him with, “Tell him to shove it up his ass.” Then I shut the door in his face.
Silence.
“I’ll give it to the homeless man, then,” he says through the door.
Argh.
A few days later, my date that ran out on me, sends me a message apologizing for what he’d done, and it also says he hopes I don’t hate him.
Like, what the fuck?
I blocked him.
I’m at work now. We’re closing the store so we can finish unpacking new stock.
I fish out a matching yellow silk set. Oooh, I like it. No, I love it. I hold the material against my skin, and it’s a perfect contrast.
“Ooof, we love!” Alana, my manager, says as she walks out with another box.
“I swear I’m going broke here, Alana,” I whine. I love all of it. Discount or not, I’ve begun an unhealthy relationship with lingerie because it makes me feel sexy.
“And the new toys,” Alana adds as she pulls out a pink vibrator from the next box. She admires it before returning it to the box and looking at me again. “I still can’t believe that douchebag made you pay for the meal.” She scoffs in disbelief.
I sigh. “Is online dating always like this? I mean, honestly. I might stay single forever.”
She laughs and then throws me one of the boxed vibrators. “Then maybe you need this.”
I flip it over, appreciating it in the same way Alana did. It’s cute. And a girl can never have too many toys, right?
“Put it on my tab,” I say in a sing-song voice. And although I love it and have only ever had dildos and vibrators, I’m wondering if I’m missing out on anything at all when it comes to men. I mean, this basically does the same thing, right? And most women have told me it’s even better. But then I wonder if the person you’re with makes the experience different.
“Dawson asked for your work schedule,” she mentions, peeking in my direction. When I look at her, she returns her focus back to emptying the box. “Is there something going on with you and the boss that you should tell me about?”
Fucking Dawson… again.
I’m still too mad about him handling my date to have anything nice to say, but I try anyway. “He’s friends with my sister and her husband,” I tell her. I certainly don’t need to tell her that I almost bit his penis off. Or that he came in here to seduce me, and the whole time, I sat there wondering if I should let him. Or about the tattoo. Or about anything because there is nothing between us.
“Okay, because work relationships can be messy. But I get it. He’s hot.” Her eyes bulge as she says it. “Don’t tell my husband I said that.” She laughs. “Also, if you’re not doing anything tonight, a few friends of mine are going out to celebrate my birthday. Want to come?”
Using a hanger, I arrange the yellow set on the rack. It reminds me of the color of honey.
I haven’t really hung out with anyone from work, and making friends has been hard. Despite how many people live in New York, I haven’t met many people.
“Sure, sounds fun. And if it’s your birthday, it’s my treat.”
“No, my husband is going to meet us later. So he can treat. The goal is always to rack the bill as high as we can until he gets there, then he pays and gets a drunk, crazy, sex-driven me as a thank-you.” She winks.
“Husband!” Alana shrieks and wraps her arm around the attractive man in the well-fitted suit. They seem perfectly matched. She’s beautiful and charming. He’s handsome in an accountant-possibly-a-secret-spy way. But maybe it’s the glasses.
“Hi, Husband!” we all say in unison.
He shakes his head as he puts down two large fishbowl drinks. “I figured if I came with these, I’d be most welcome,” he says. Alana smooches an appreciative kiss on his cheek. “But you ladies have been managing an impressive job on my tab, huh?”
“Shouldn’t have been two hours late,” one of the girls teases as she happily drags the fishbowls toward us.
We’re sitting in a large booth in a club. It’s private enough but still loud, as we have to yell at each other to be heard.