Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I’d picked up the card and read it. Speech Modification/American Accent Training Center. I couldn’t believe it. My slight southern twang had offended her. I was an American, dammit!
I had looked at the woman and shook my head, telling her I had no desire to work for a business that couldn’t accept me for who I was, then flung the card back at her. My aim had been terrible—spot on if I had been trying to be a bitch, which hadn’t been my intention—hitting her in the middle of her forehead. I’d thought she was going to throw me out of her office, but she’d adjusted her undamaged hair and had blinked her eyes before calmly asking me to reconsider. She explained I would deal with clients on the phone who expected a—she lifted her hands and air quoted—“professional” quality in their speech.
I had no idea who she quoted. Maybe the head of the company? In the end, it didn’t really matter. I rose up from my chair, marched out of her office, and left the door wide open. I didn’t spend one more second in her presence.
I was glad I left when I did. I preferred being in the presence of the handsome guy ordering coffee. He was by far the most smoking hot man I’d observed suited up or down in the city. I pulled out my phone to try to sneak a photo of him. I wanted to have proof he existed to show Tessa later.
I was smiling to myself, thinking I was so clever, when I looked up and saw him staring right at me. Then he glanced down at my phone and his eyes tightened. When our eyes met again, I nearly jumped at the coldness in them. He glared at me as he walked my way.
Yikes, it didn’t take someone with a “true” American accent to know he was not happy. I stuffed my phone away and kept my head down as he approached the wait-for-your-name-to-be-called area. For some strange reason, I felt a pressing charge in the air, probably from the guy’s simmering anger sending out hate beams. I lifted my head a bit and caught the sight of his suit covered legs and shiny designer shoes. He was mere inches away, so I slid a couple feet into the crowd of people waiting closer to the counter, hoping to isolate myself from him. I was too anxious and embarrassed to peer up and find him still mad.
Minutes ticked by way too slowly. All I wanted to do was grab my latte and go.
Hurry up already.
I tapped a heel on the floor and remembered I needed to change into my flats before hitting the subway. I moved closer to the counter, seeking out a few square inches of free space. I dug in my purse, removing a single flat from my bag. Gingerly, I balanced on one leg while I removed my heel from my airborne foot and slid on my comfy flats. Easy peasy—until someone next to me brushed against my arm. It was a slight touch, but enough to rock my steady stance and send me backward.
I lost my connection to the solid surface of the counter before my dangling foot reached the floor, then I began to swing my arms in the air. The next thing I knew, the stiletto was flying out of my hand to God only knew where.
“Ahhh,” I cried out in a long, helpless breath as I closed my eyes and prepared to meet the floor. Before I made impact, someone caught me under my arms.
My downward motion coming to an abrupt stop, I blew a few stray hairs out of my face and gazed up to see who kept me from crashing flat on my back.
Well, well. Mr. Armani was even hotter close up and upside down. The way his nostrils flared told me he wasn’t over my camera incident.
5
Lucas
The grinding coffee machine went silent, and the normal buzz of people milling around the shop had stopped. The quiet prickled against my skin. I knew every pair of eyes in the place was aimed in our direction.
Our direction.
I didn’t like the word “our.” It meant there was a “we,” and I had no clue who this woman was. Scratch that. I’d seen enough to know a few things about her. She was prone to public displays of anger and mumbling and took unsuspecting people’s photos like the paparazzi.
I studied her face as she gazed up at me. Creamy skin the sun had hardly ever touched. Full red lips that sent a man’s mind to sinful places. A fan of thick black lashes blinking at me, but her jade eyes were her most riveting feature. They gleamed with a vibrant energy, making her a person one couldn’t easily forget. She was a delectable temptation wrapped up in a beautiful young package, and I needed to get the hell away from her.