Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
He nodded. “Text when you’re ready to roll. I’ll have Paul pick you up at the office and take you to your place, then he can bring you here. Anything you don’t like to eat?”
“I’m not a fan of squash, or eggplant.”
“Me either.”
The elevator doors opened while she said, “Perfect.”
He held the door open while he gave her another kiss.
Then she got in the elevator and saluted him with the travel mug he’d filled for her as they started to close.
His last view was Elsa taking a bite of the bagel.
Something about that made him feel warmth in his chest.
He buried that feeling, went to his kitchen and started to make his morning smoothie.
The text from Elsa came at 10:30.
Lunch plans today?
He had them.
But now he was going to cancel them.
No.
My treat. But warning, first, you’re looking at a couch with me.
Oh yeah. She had to get rid of her fucking couch. Immediately.
What time?
1:00?
Tell me where and I’ll be there.
New Life Furniture in Chelsea. I’ll text their deets.
See you there.
After sending that, he left his desk to go tell Kayla, his assistant who dealt with his schedule (as well as travel plans, and a dozen other things), that she had to juggle his lunch.
With his bodyguard for that day, Hudson, stopping just inside the door, Hale met Elsa inside the store, which had a showroom full of refurbished furniture and upcycled items.
He liked that was her pick in order to reuse something that shouldn’t be thrown away, and also because it was a local business. But he knew she shopped upcycled and bought local already from what she told him about the things at her place.
She was standing in front of a sofa that was covered in creamy pink bouclé, a line of buttons along the low back, and interesting arms with wood accents. He was no furniture expert, but he could see it was a mid-century design, and possibly Danish.
In other words, it was kickass.
But it wouldn’t be very comfortable.
“Hey,” he greeted when he got to her.
She stopped looking at the sofa to turn to him. When she saw him, she smiled brightly and tipped her head back, inviting his kiss, a gesture that struck him was growing familiar in a way he liked.
He accepted the invitation (something else he liked), and when he was lifting his head, she tossed a hand toward the couch. “I saw this on their website. It intrigued me. What do you think?”
“It’s fantastic, but I can’t fuck you on it.”
Her head twitched then she busted out laughing.
She then grabbed his arm with both hands and leaned into his side. “How tall are you? Six two? Six three?”
“Three.”
“My apartment won’t hold a couch that long, Hale.”
He pointed. “The wood on the arms will make them hard to relax against.”
“You can rest a pillow on them.”
“True. But it still won’t be comfortable.”
“Can I help you guys?”
A female associate had come up to them. She was Black, had natural hair that was a soft halo that grew out several inches in every direction and looked amazing. She was wearing a skintight, cropped turtleneck, a pair of baggy overalls, and you could see smooth brown flesh at her sides. And she had great earrings.
“Hey, yeah,” he replied. “Do you do the refurbishment on these pieces?”
Her chin ticked to the side and her brows drew down.
At her reaction, he thought maybe she belatedly recognized him, but she said, “Thanks for asking it like that.”
“Sorry?”
“Usually, people ask who does the refurbishment, not if I do it. No shade on the patriarchy,” she lied on that last. “But a woman can reupholster a sofa. And I do. I own this place with my man and his brother, but only me and my man do the work.”
“This piece is great,” he told her.
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“But do you have something that’s as cool as this but more comfortable?”
“Fuck furniture?” she asked with a quirk to her lips.
Hale stood silent.
Elsa laughed softly.
“I heard you earlier,” the associate shared.
“Right,” he muttered, a sensation of alarm unfurling across the back of his neck. “Sorry.”
She smiled. “Baby, if you think it’s not a compliment that my furniture gives a good-lookin’ man ideas, you’re very wrong. So how about you follow me.”
She didn’t take them to another part of the store. She took them out the back to the alley, along it and to the back door to the next property, where they went in.
Through this, his bodyguard trailed them.
Elsa noted him and gave him a contented smile, not hiding she was relieved he was there. The associate noted him too and didn’t say a word.
“This is our workspace,” she unnecessarily explained about the big space filled with items in progress, tools and a lot of sawdust.
They snaked through it and stopped at another midcentury piece. This one was boxy, with padded arms and thick, comfortable-looking cushions covered in velvet the color of a dandelion.