Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 55093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“She’s still asleep thankfully. I turned off her phone but that’s only prolonging the issue. She’s going to find out sooner or later.” I moved over to her, looking down at her bent head. “You still haven’t answered me about this other thing.” I wanted to ask her why she hadn’t come to me, even though I already knew the answer.
I was nothing more to her than the man who’d bought her dad’s company. There would’ve been no reason for her to come to me with her troubles and from what I’ve seen of her so far she’s one of those independent types who likes to do things her way. I have no problem with that as long as the shit doesn’t get in my way. I never put much stock in false pride and doing shit the hard way when there was another ethical avenue opened to you.
She sidestepped me and headed for the couch but I followed close on her heel. “There’s nothing to talk about other than to say I have not nor do I ever plan on selling my used underwear.” Shit I’d missed that part. ‘Used’ adds a whole new connotation to the story. She better not be selling her fucking used panties to the sick fucks I was sure really do exist.
It was obvious she wasn’t comfortable discussing the fact that her life had become so hard that she was now relegated to selling off her clothes, so I let it drop for now. That decision I’d made not to go digging into her finances was null and void. With the decision that she was now mine, my responsibility set firmly in mind, of course I will take care of her every need. But for how long? Shut the fuck up. I scolded the annoying voice in my head.
“Fair enough, but I’ve come to a decision. I well know your penchant for being a hard ass, but I hope you’re not one of those insipid fools who thinks pride is better than a full belly.” She had no idea what the hell I was talking about as was evident by the questioning look on her face. “I don’t know the particulars of your situation at the moment...” Something I plan to rectify before the night ended.
“Look, I’ll like to offer you a job.”
“I don’t need your pity.” She flung her snippy ass off the couch and all but posed up, as if she really thinks she could take me.
“I thought we decided that you weren’t going to be an ass.” She bristled but I didn’t give her a chance to respond. I was sure that if I did she’d only annoy the shit out of me.
“It’s obvious from that report that you’re in need. There’s no point in pretending and we’re already acquaintances of some sort. We’re already… aware of each other, and I dare say I might know a little bit more about your situation than most, so why wouldn’t you accept my help?” From her squint I surmised that she thought my offer came with certain stipulations. Smart girl, but I had no plans on trading a job for a piece of ass.
Not that I wouldn’t have done that shady shit in the past. But I find that I think more of her. Yes, because I’ve obviously lost my fucking mind. This shit had wedding bells written all over it. Somehow the thought didn’t have me heading for the door like my ass was on fire. Which in itself was confusing as hell. Well, you’re here now and there’s no turning back.
Unless she’s a complete dunce she has to be wondering at my coming here like this. Like a lovesick boy to the rescue. She hasn’t said anything but I’m very aware of when a woman is aware of me, and if I’m not mistaken Ms. Bronson is very well aware that I now have her scent. Poor girl. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate as it is, she now has a wolf on her ass.
“Why would you offer me a job? You don’t owe us anything. I’m sorry if my coming to you like that gave you the idea that I was looking for a handout….
“Don’t be an ass Emily. You don’t strike me as a simpleton.”
“You expect me to accept a job from you when you speak to me like that?”
“How the fuck am I talking to you? Honestly, straightforward? I look like one of those hangers-on you hang around with? I don’t have time sweetheart and I know you have more sense than to look a gift horse in the mouth.” This is who I am. She can either deal with that shit, get with the program, or I’ll drag her ass into the light.
She got huffy but I let her know in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t in the mood; I’m sure she’s heard worst. “Do you want to know what kind of job it is? Or do you want to show up and just wing it?”