Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 105850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Putting a bowl of rice and water in the microwave couldn’t really be called cooking, but I wasn’t going to point that out.
He was so proud of himself, bless him.
“There’s no need to test the limits of my patience where you’re concerned,” I said, pouring two glasses. “I already know it’s pretty much infinite after working for you this long.”
“Maybe I was wrong about you knowing if I was flirting with you or not.”
“I’m not that dense. I simply chose to ignore it.”
The microwave beeped, and he took out the rice. “Mhmm. If you say so. Go and sit down, and I’ll bring it over.”
“Gladly.” I carried both wine glasses to the dining table and sat down in my usual spot.
He better put on a damn t-shirt.
“Here.” He put my plate down in front of me.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the cutlery he also held. “I see you did actually put on a t-shirt.”
“A promise is a promise.” He sat down opposite me and met my eyes. “Eat first. We’ll talk after.”
I nodded and unlocked my phone to doom scroll while I ate. I couldn’t believe how used to this silence I’d gotten since we’d arrived here. Aside from maybe two nights, we’d eaten dinner together every evening, and we rarely spoke during that time.
There wasn’t much for us to talk about, after all. We’d agreed to actively avoid talking about work outside of the designated work hours, and I think we both enjoyed the comfortable silence we naturally settled into during this time.
Which meant I could doom scroll Reddit and judge whether people were assholes or not based on the highly biased stories they were posting.
Like this man who was asking if he was the asshole for leaving his wife after she said there were four possible dads for their two-year-old son.
“What are you reading that has you so shocked over there?”
I raised my head, swallowing as I met Theodore’s eyes. “Um, will you judge me if I say I’m on Reddit?”
“A little bit.” His lips tugged to one side. “Depends what you’re doing on Reddit, really.”
I spun my phone around and pushed it towards him. “This guy wants to know if he’s an asshole for leaving his wife.”
“Why is he leaving her?” He peeked at the screen.
“There are four possible dads for their two-year-old.”
He coughed, dropping his spoon into his bowl and thumping his chest. “Four? How does one have four possible fathers for a child?”
“Easy,” I said, reaching for my wine. “Orgies.”
“Wow. You didn’t even have to think about it.”
“It’s all that came to mind, really.”
“I’m alarmed how quickly it did come to mind.”
“I’ve spent far more time on this website than I’d ever like to admit. You’d be surprised what pops up after a while.” I pulled my phone back towards me. “Anyway, looks like he’s not the asshole. That marriage is probably over whether it’s his kid or not.”
“Wouldn’t he have had to partake in the orgy?” He stopped, then rubbed his hand over his chin. “I cannot believe that sentence just came out of my mouth.”
I grinned. “Wow. If only everyone at the office could see you now. Can you say that again so I can get it on camera?”
“Are you trying to get some kind of blackmail folder pulled together? Between that just now and you trying to sneak pictures of my socks, I’m getting a bit scared.”
Ah. Shoot. He’d caught me. “Maybe I’d just like a souvenir of my time as your assistant.”
“Then I’ll buy you your own hot dog socks if you really like them that much.”
“It’s really not the socks,” I muttered, putting my spoon down in the bowl. “I’m so glad I didn’t have to cook tonight.”
He glanced down at my bowl. “Are you done?”
I nodded. “I’ll do the dishes.”
“Just put them in the dishwasher.”
“No, it’ll be full if Auntie Pat came today, and I can’t be bothered to empty it right now. It’ll be quicker to just wash the dishes we’ve used.”
“Good point. I’ll dry them, then. Go ahead if you want to get started, I don’t mind.”
I paused before nodding and getting to my feet. “Come out when you’re done.” I took both my wine and my bowl and carried them out to the kitchen.
If we were done, it meant we were going to talk about yesterday.
Ugh.
My stomach flipped at the mere thought of it. Could I really play it off coolly? Was it possible for me to brush it off as if it were nothing?
Possible or not, I had to try.
I poured the last of the wine into my glass while the sink filled up. Talking while doing the dishes was going to be far less awkward than sitting there across from one another, so maybe I’d just have to get it started as soon as he came in.