Total pages in book: 225
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Twenty minutes into my bookstore wander, I see none other than the hot nightclub owner from last Friday night. I feel my face flame with heat; I’m sure it’s bright red.
It’s weird, too, because I could’ve sworn I’d left his business card on the bar, yet found it in the pocket of my dress when I took my stuff to the drycleaners yesterday. I’m guessing that’s courtesy of Alannah who mentioned him and suggested I use him as my hall pass about half a dozen times over the weekend.
I tucked the matte charcoal card with raised glossy black letters into a pocket in my purse for no logical reason instead of tossing it into the trash.
I duck out, abandoning my planned purchase on a table. Derek Steele probably wouldn’t remember me, but for some reason, I don’t want to run into him.
I pull in a big breath when I get outside and let it out slowly as I make my way across the parking lot. In broad daylight he looked just as sinfully attractive as he did under the lights of his dim nightclub. Tall, built, with that sexy dark and disheveled hair. Those dark eyes.
He’s got a five o’clock shadow today and he’s in jeans and a black shirt under a leather jacket instead of an expensive suit, but he looks just as much like sex, money, and power today as he did the other night.
In the coffee shop down the street from the mall, I’m kicking myself for not buying that book. I’m scrolling my phone while I eat and while the soup is as good as always, the experience feels a little underwhelming without a fresh new paperback.
I often read e-books, but this dinner and a paperback date for one has a different feel to it for me. Cracking the spine. Smelling the paper. Drooling over a sexy cover.
I decide to read the e-book sample of the paperback I’d almost bought. Maybe I’ll go back to the bookstore and get it after I eat and read it in my office at home tonight.
I’m deep into reading reviews of the book when I hear something being set on my table, so I look up, expecting a refill for my green tea. But it’s the book I had planned to buy. And resting on top of it is a masculine, attractive hand with an expensive-looking watch on his wrist.
My eyes take a slow journey up to the perfectly sinful face of Derek Steele.
“Worried I’d bite?” he quips, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
My mouth drops open.
“Good call,” he adds, then sits at my table.
“Excuse me?” I rasp.
“You saw me and took off like your sweet little ass was on fire. Like a terrified little bunny rabbit. Thought I’d buy this for you and see if I could find you.”
I tilt my head to the side. “How did you find me?”
He shrugs. “Luck, I guess.”
My expression drops. “No way.”
“Followed the trail of your alluring perfume?” he tries.
I give him a bitchy look.
“Okay, I stepped out after you rushed out, then watched you bunny-hop across the parking lot and down the street.”
He gestures to the elderly owner. “Hot and Sour soup for me, please, Mr. Nguyen. And maybe some more tea for this little bunny.”
The owner waves. “Sure, Mr. Derek. Where you been?”
“Out of town. But I’m here a while.”
“Good, good,” Mr. Nguyen says.
His wife pokes her head out from the swinging door into the kitchen.
“Mr. Derek! Hello! We didn’t see you for a long time!”
He waves. “How’s the most beautiful lady and best cook in the world?”
She smiles wide and waves at him like he’s a naughty boy before disappearing back into the kitchen.
Derek turns his gaze back to me.
“You’re a regular here?” I ask.
“Oh yeah,” Derek says, leaning back in his chair. “First sign of a tickle in the throat in my family, someone’s comin’ over here to pick up soup.”
I’m surprised.
It’s a little independent donut shop. The décor is still circa 1980-something, but it’s famous among the locals. You get house-made-from-scratch soups for cheap from the sweet, elderly Asian couple who get wounded if you go too long between visits. When me and Alannah moved to Columbus for college we practically lived on this soup. It suited our broke college girl budget quite well. And I could swear the Nguyens put extra wontons in it for us.
When I came in a while back (after not coming for three or four months) they laid grandparent-like guilt on me. When I told them why I hadn’t been by, they reacted as if they knew Adam themselves even though they’ve never met him. They sent me home with two family-sized containers of won ton soup.
Adam wasn’t in the headspace to find the gesture as sweet as he normally would. Since he isn’t much of an Asian soup person, I froze the soups in individual serving sizes and had them twice a week for several weeks.