Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
I had time. I could clean myself up. I kept an extra shirt here in the office for this exact reason. It wasn’t my favorite and didn’t fit like this one, but it was clean.
I grabbed it from its hiding place, under the desk hung up against the wall of my cubicle. I kept it in a plastic dry-cleaning bag that I had swiped when a lawyer confused me for his secretary or his mother. He got his coat back, and I got a clean place to keep my top.
With Mr. Astrid not in for a while, I could take my time, get cleaned up and settled in, maybe drink my next cup of coffee instead of wearing it, and start my day.
It wouldn’t be all bad. Unlike my shirt, the day was salvageable.
A shrill laugh came from the other side of the bullpen, and I watched Ally, my arch-rival, head my way with the mayor.
Because, of course, she was.
She and I went to the same high school, constantly competing for the top spot, which she won. Not because her grades were better, but because she got extra credit when her daddy paid for a class trip to D.C. that she arranged.
She and I also went to the same college and took the same classes, but that was where the similarities ended. I served her lunch as part of my college work-study, and needed to work for a few years before continuing on, whereas she could afford to jump straight into law school and was currently interning at the mayor’s office.
While I was just a paralegal doing grunt work for the actual important people.
I couldn’t face her, not this morning, not like this.
Unfortunately, she was between the restrooms and me.
Cynthia was gone, Mr. Astrid wasn’t here, and Ally was getting closer. It only took me a second to calculate the pros and cons before I slipped into Mr. Astrid’s empty office and into his bathroom, holding my clean top over my front to cover the stained blouse.
Mr. Astrid’s office bath was even more ridiculous in the daylight—all gleaming, highly polished marble with gilded frames and hardware. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve said this level of tacky opulence was right out of some reality show. But it wasn’t my place to comment, so I didn’t. I was just going to hurry and change again, then find somewhere a little less dangerous to hide until Ally and the mayor were gone.
The moment I closed the door, I had my shirt off and was looking for a paper towel I could wet and use to clean the sticky residue from my chest. There was nothing on top of the counter, so I looked in the cabinet under the sink.
At the exact moment the door was pulled open.
CHAPTER 7
EDDIE
And there I was…
Half-naked. Bent over at the waist, with my ass high in the air. My dirty shirt crumpled in a ball on top of the sink counter… again.
I closed my eyes and swallowed a groan of mortification.
Why, God? Why me, God? FML.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Are you seriously in my office without permission again?” a deep voice demanded.
I stood up quickly, smacking my head on the counter. The pain was instantaneous but not nearly as agonizing as the embarrassment that heated my cheeks. I rubbed my head to check for bleeding, then turned.
“I...” My words trailed off in a sucked-in breath as my fingers grazed a tender part of my scalp. Fortunately, there was no blood. Bleeding all over this tacky, expensive-looking tile would make this all so much worse.
He stepped inside and slammed the door shut. “Let me answer that for you. The answer is yes.”
Uh oh.
His words were gritted out between clenched teeth. “Same as your answer when I tell you to bend over, lift your skirt, and take the punishment you have now more than earned.”
I raised my chin and held up a palm to ward him off. I couldn’t let him intimidate me. “I just spilled coffee all over my shirt, and I came in here to change.”
He placed a hand against the wall over my head as he moved closer. “Does this look like a fucking Nordstrom changing room, Ms. Carmichael?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I said with brutal honesty. Unless they filmed an episode of Sex in the City there, I would have no idea. I looked around at the needlessly luxurious bathroom. “But probably.”
He towered over me. “I’m glad you find this amusing, Ms. Carmichael. Apparently you need an attitude adjustment along with a lesson on trespassing law.”
Realizing my lame attempt at levity had only ignited rather than diffused the situation, I shifted along the wall a few inches, trying to put space between us. “I’m really sorry. My shirt turned transparent when it happened, and then I saw the mayor headed this way. I thought it wouldn’t look professional if I walked past him in a see-through shirt with my bra on display, so I ducked in here.”