Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“I’ve spent a whole week going over my budget,” I say. She leans forward, and I smell citrus.
“You don’t need a beer,” she says. “You need a bottle of scotch.”
I laugh, knowing she’s right. “I’ve never heard you laugh.”
“That’s because every time I sit down with you, I feel you squeeze …” I’m about to say my balls, but something stops me. “My neck.”
Her laughter sends shivers up my arms. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.” She drinks more of her champagne, and I wonder if her lips taste sweet. It’s only when I have that thought do I stop staring at her. Where the fuck is all this coming from? I’m afraid to say anything with the direction of my thoughts. “I let you win sometimes.” She hides her smile with her champagne glass.
“Sometimes.” I shake my head, hoping to clear out the idea of her naked in front of me. “And then sometimes …”
“And sometimes it feels like I’m kicking you in the ass.” She tilts her head slightly to the side, smiles, and then shrugs. “It might be why I’m good at my job.”
“Without a doubt,” I say. “I’ve sat with many agents.” I grab the beer bottle and bring it to my lips, taking a pull before I choose my next words. The coldness of the beer hits my tongue.
“Wait,” she says, holding up her hands before I continue talking. “If you are going to give me a compliment, I’m going to tape it and then write it on my calendar.” My head goes back, and I swear I haven’t laughed that hard in forever.
“Now it’s my turn to say I’m not that bad.” I look at her.
“The last time we sat down in your conference room, you called me egotistical,” she says. It takes me a second to go through my memory and find that moment. I’m shocked by just how many memories I have of her.
“I’m sure I didn’t say those exact words.” I roll my lips when she gasps.
“I believe your exact words were come down out of the clouds, Becca, and stop being so fucking egotistical.” She points at me. “Okay, maybe not exactly, but you definitely called me egotistical.”
“What are you two laughing about?” Miller says, pulling out the seat beside me and sitting down. Layla walks over to the other side of the table, pulling out her own chair and sitting next to Becca. I watch Becca turn and look over, smiling as her hair falls forward. My hand itches to reach over and move it so I can see her eyes.
“We are talking about the last time Nico paid me a compliment and called me egotistical,” she tells Miller.
“Oh, I remember that,” Miller says, snapping his fingers.
“No, you don’t.” I shake my head, rolling my eyes.
“No, I do,” he says, looking at Layla. “I was there. You two were discussing my contract.” He then looks at me. “You were pissed with her demands. I thought the vein in your head was going to explode. You called her egotistical.” He laughs. “Becca didn’t even bat an eyelash. All she did was shrug and tell you she’s been called worse.”
“Yes,” Becca says, slapping the table. “I knew I was right.” Her laughter is contagious, making me smile. “We should have bet.”
“I was not that heated,” I point out, and Miller looks at me in shock.
“Dude,” he says, “let’s just say that day I was happy I was on Becca’s side of the table.”
I roll my eyes. “It was not that fucking bad,” I say.
“That’s okay,” Becca says, leaning over the table and putting her hand on mine. I think she’s done this before. In fact, I know she’s done this before. But now her warm, soft hand on mine feels like an electric shock going through my body, zapping my brain. “I really have been called worse.” She leans back in her chair, taking her hand off mine. “One owner called me a swingy scummy wormy bitch.” I look at her with my mouth open as she laughs about it.
“What did you do?” Layla asks, intrigued as much as I am.
“I smiled at him, and then the next day, I sent him a box of worms.” The three of us laugh so loud people look over at our table.
“So this is where the party is happening,” Ralph says, pulling up a chair and sitting at the table with us. “What did Miller do this time?” he asks, and his question has merit since Miller is usually the one making us laugh. I watch Becca as Miller fills Ralph in. The little sparkle in her eye makes her eyes look gold on the bottom and green on the top.
The waiter comes over and grabs her empty glass, and when he goes to put another one down, she shakes her head. She turns and catches me watching her. “Did you drive here?” I ask her, and she shakes her head.