Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Seeing me hesitate, Trevor says, “We do a Star Wars routine with lightsabers. You could indulge your little nerd fetish.”
“I never said I had a nerd fetish!”
“I could see it in your eyes when you talked about those IT guys.” He tips his head back, popping another chip in his mouth, and as I watch him chew and swallow, and think about how he even looks sexy while he eats, I know that I’ll be going to Club Red tomorrow night.
Night 1
1
Garrett
“What are you in the mood for today? Chinese? Mexican? Barbecue?”
“They all sound good right now,” Autumn says, tapping her fingers at the base of the window on the passenger door. “I guess I shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.”
“Don’t you usually eat at home? Were you running late?” I ask.
She lets out a huff of irritation. “No, I just wanted to get out of the house. Long story. I could eat anything, so you pick.”
Mexican is usually Autumn’s favorite, so I get in the turning lane to head toward Taco López. “We have forty-five minutes. Is that enough time for your story?”
“Ugh, you don’t want to hear it.”
“Sounds bad. What happened? Something going on with one of your housemates?” There have been small issues before; squabbles over food in the refrigerator, dishes in the sink, nothing too bad, typical roommate stuff.
She ceases drumming and clenches her hands together in her lap. “It’s an embarrassing story. I’m not sure I should tell it.”
I pull into the lot and park across from the entrance. We usually take our lunch break early to avoid crowds at restaurants. I also have a meeting at a quarter to one that I need to get back for.
Autumn and I are the IT department for Pacelli Plastics. Yes, the two of us are the full department, and we’re lucky that they don’t complain about us taking lunch together. We’ll probably have to stop if someone has an email emergency someday and they realize we’re both out.
For two years, I was the only IT person on staff, but the company’s growing, and soon there will be at least three or four of us. My meeting is actually about the coming expansion, and there’s talk of a management position being added to the structure.
I hold the door for Autumn, and we’re greeted by the enticing scent of chilies and fresh tortillas. A server shows us to a booth and brings us chips and salsa.
I should probably stop going out to lunch with Autumn for my own sake. It’s a bit of torture, since I’ve been attracted to her since the day I first met her. She’s one hundred percent out of my league, and if that wasn’t a big enough issue, the company would absolutely frown upon us dating. If they promote me to a management position — which they definitely should — then there would be no way we could get together.
She’s a great friend, anyway. I continually suppress the desire for her to be more.
“I’ve told you plenty of embarrassing stories,” I say.
Her eyes shift to her left, and I can see she’s remembering some of those stories, like maybe when I told her about how I had toilet paper stuck to my shoe during my first interview at our company.
“I guess you’re right,” she says. “Like that time your mom called you Boo-Boo at school when you were in the sixth grade.” She smiles at me in that way that makes suppressing my desire for her especially difficult. “Do you know what you want to eat?”
I glance at the menu, even though I know most of it by memory, and when the waitress comes by, we place our food orders along with our drink requests.
“I didn’t want to see Lindsey or Kelly this morning,” Autumn says after we order. “I’m so pissed at them. It was probably Lindsey, but they’re both responsible.”
“For what?”
“They held a little get-together for me last night to celebrate my upcoming gig at Rusty’s.” She says this with much more irritation than it would seem to warrant.
“That wasn’t a good thing?”
“It seemed nice at first. Didn’t turn out that way.” Autumn pauses as the waitress approaches, and thanks her when she sets down her lemonade and my Coke.
“During the party, a cop came to the door … and he turned out to be a stripper.”
“They hired a stripper for your party?” I hate the flare of jealousy that hits me.
“They not only hired a stripper, they snuck out and left me alone with him.” Her voice is incredulous and angry, and I’m right there with her.
I don’t even try to keep the anger out of my voice. “Why would they leave you alone with a stripper?”
Her eyes, which had been flashing a moment ago, drop to the table. She takes a chip and dips it in the salsa, but doesn’t take a bite.