Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
He’s got them on today. Or he did. Currently they’re dangling from his hand, the bent earpiece of one side resting against his lip. His lips are perfect. Full. Smooth. Soft. I don’t know for certain that they’re soft, but I’m positive if I was given the opportunity to verify, I’d be correct.
I’m pulled from my thoughts as Preston slaps the paper he’s been working on in front of me. I glance down, centering the paper on top of my own pile of papers. Then I pick them up and tap them against the desk top, ensuring they’re all even before placing the stack back down and centering it again on the workspace before me. Then I pick up my pen so I’m ready to make notes on whatever he’s passed over.
I get two sentences in and stop, shaking my head no as I move to slide the paper back to him. He slaps his hand down, pinning the paper in front of me in a silent decree that he’s not taking the survey back. Except that his hand slap is enough to catch Gabe’s attention and Gabe’s half turned in his chair two rows ahead, his eyes landing on mine. I freeze. He smiles. I look away, dropping my eyes to the desk space before me, as if my life depends on it.
Preston nudges the survey back over to me with a fingertip, content that he’s won this battle. I hate making a scene. It’s mortifying. And unprofessional. And I am very, very professional. Which is why I want nothing to do with Preston’s survey. He’s copied and edited the actual survey we’re taking into this:
Thank you for attending this boring fucking meeting. Please entertain me by taking this sex quiz. I appreciate your candid responses.
1) On a scale from 1 to 5, is there anyone in this room you’d like to have the sex with?
2) Who is it? (This is anonymous so answer honestly!)
3) Please share your thoughts on what positions you’re interested in.
4) If you answered “all”, are you including anal?
5) Does this person know that you want to have sex with him?
Preston kicks me and I sigh, but I pick up my pen.
1) 5
2) Gabe Laurent
3) All
4) Maybe?
5) No!!!
“Sandra?”
I look up at my name being called to find my boss, Sawyer, at the end of the aisle. I rise and make my way over to him to see what he needs.
“Has Wilson given you an answer yet on the dates for the Berlin launch?”
“Not yet, no.”
“Would you step out and give them a call?” he instructs. “Tell them we need an answer by the end of the day if they want it in time for the second fiscal quarter.”
“Of course,” I reply, already nodding. “I’ll take care of it now.”
“Thanks, Sandra,” he says with a nod as he moves back to his seat in the front row and I slip quietly out the auditorium door. I roll my shoulders and enjoy the silence of the hallway after being cooped up in meetings all morning. It feels good to decompress a little as I take the elevator up to my desk. I make the call, get the answers Sawyer needs, send him an update via email and then head back to the meeting just as they break for lunch.
Preston exits the room as I reach the door, grabbing my arm and steering me back to the elevators. “Food, now,” he demands. “I’m starving.”
“You ate two blueberry muffins during the meeting,” I point out.
He shrugs. “I worked out this morning, I needed the fuel.”
“You never work out in the morning. You barely make it to work on time every day.”
“Sex, Sandra. Sex was my workout,” he says, jabbing the down button with his finger. “Liam’s trying to knock me up.”
“Um?” I blurt out, surprised. Preston is a gay man, so it doesn’t exactly work that way.
“We’re starting the adoption process.” Preston laughs. “But why should we be denied the fun part?” He continues without waiting for an answer. “We’re on a five-year plan. Well, a twenty-year plan, really. We want two kids before we’re forty so they’re in college before we’re sixty. Then we can travel to all the places we want to see before we get too old.”
Wow. Preston’s only three years older than me and he’s got his whole life figured out. He met Liam at twenty-five and they married a year later in what was the best wedding ever, in his words. I wasn’t there—the event happening prior to us having met—but I have seen the wedding. It was featured on one of those wedding reality shows that I used to love watching. And he’s not wrong, it was a pretty great wedding. Anyway, Preston’s got it all figured out and I’m buying frozen single-serve meals.