Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
“I second the motion,” Bob announces.
Calix’s left eye twitches as if this was unexpected to him.
The motion carries, and we find ourselves standing outside the library before another word is said. Mindy sniffs in disgust and starts to walk off. I call out, “Why are you so against me owning my grandmother’s apartment? We have barely any contact with each other. The apartments are on the opposite end of the building, so it’s not like I’m bothering you when I’m doing stuff. Is it because you’re a snob and you don’t think I’m good enough to live here?”
“I am not a snob.”
“That’s debatable,” Calix says under his breath but loud enough for me to hear.
“I give plenty of money to charity.” Mindy must have heard him too. “I’m a nice person. Everyone says so.”
“Probably because you give money to them,” Calix says. He slides an arm around my side. “Everyone says I’m nice, too, but we all know I’m a big asshole.”
“I have an apartment here at The Grand, too, if that’s all you wanted.” Mindy’s miffed. I guess she really thinks I’m trash.
“I could’ve bought the whole damned place if The Grand is what I wanted,” Calix replies. “Isn’t it obvious? I wanted Harlow, not The Grand and not you.”
He propels me forward past a stunned Mindy, inside the elevators and back to my apartment.
“She’s going to make me pay for that last remark.” I throw my house keys onto the console table just inside the door.
“Maybe you should sell this place and come live with me,” he suggests like we’re real lovers and that’s an option.
”Ha ha, cute.” I flop down on the sofa. Hands in his pockets, Calix leans against a high chest of drawers that houses Irish crochet doilies, porcelain figurines, and a handful of puzzles of castles in Germany.
“I’m willing to fight for you to stay here, but there are alternatives.”
I sit upright and point a finger at Calix. “It’s time for you to come clean. Why are you doing all of this? Why did you sign my contract? Why did you agree to take a thousand dollars when you’re rich as hell, Mr. Bachelor of the Year?”
“Technically it was a single month, and as I said earlier, I never asked for that.”
“That’s not answering my question.”
“I don’t think you’re ready for my answer.” His face is somber.
I’m confused. “Are you my grandma’s secret love child and you want to claim this as your own?”
“I’m only thirty, so secret love child is a stretch.”
”You’re evading the question.”
He pushes away from the chest and strolls over to me. From my position on the couch, he looks huge. Big, firm, capable. I would love to have someone like him at my back all the time. The co-op board meeting could have been nerve-wracking. By myself, maybe I would have had anxiety tears. But he was so firm and had an answer for everything. It’d be nice for him to just sit by my side at work so I wouldn’t feel so alone.
He crouches down and takes my hand between his. “I saw you and I liked you.”
“Huh?”
“I was supposed to meet my Aunt Gia for lunch. Then you walked into the café. I wanted you. So I lied about who I was and signed the contract and here I am. To sum up, I saw you and I liked you.”
I stare at him. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe not, but I’ve always been driven by my gut instinct, and it’s hardly ever led me wrong.”
“Hardly ever?”
“Only God is infallible, babe.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles.
“Why are you so attractive?”
“Another mystery of the universe.”
“Please don’t smile. I need to work this out because I don’t know if I believe you. You’ve quite literally lied about everything since I met you. Is your name even Calix Line?”
He keeps a hold of my hand while he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. “Here. Look through it.”
“You mean look at it.”
“No, through it. I don’t want to have secrets from you.”
I tug my hand free and peer at his license. Thirty, with a birthday three months ago coinciding with his inclusion in the most eligible bachelor list, hair is blond, brown eyes, six-foot-four-inches tall, two hundred pounds.
“Your eyes aren’t brown, and your hair isn’t blond.”
“I’ll change it then. What do you want it to say?” He brushes a hand over his thick hair, making a mess and somehow coming off sexier than a moment ago. My sex quivers. A Girl, you’re in danger sign goes off in my head.
I thumb through the rest of his wallet. He has five very crisp one thousand dollar bills. Where would he even use these? No one has change. “What if you wanted to buy a smoothie from the food truck?”
“I’ve got my phone and a credit card.” He points to the black card. Tucked behind it are two other cards. They all probably have unfathomable limits. In one of the side pockets is a small folded Post-it note. I show it to him.