Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
That I’m not worthy.
That Platinum and I aren’t worthy.
We truly aren’t, but that’s beside the point.
I don’t want The Great Ones to realize that and do something drastic like convince Cami to live a life without us in it.
“Yes, Mr. Draak?” Tyana, my young leopard shifter assistant, immediately answers. “How may I be of service?”
Her smooth voice combined with the suggestive word choice could easily convey a different message than the one she’s intentionally delivering, something that is amusingly evident by the way my Fated Mate is trying not to sneer.
Huh.
This is a first.
I rather enjoy seeing the female I’m with display a bit of jealousy, although she has absolutely no fucking reason to.
I’ve only got eyes for one being, and it’s the pocket-sized warrior across the room twirling a pen around her fingers like it’s a dagger in need of a target.
“Tyana, could you please check Zuriel Frankford’s Friday hours?” Folding my hands together in front of my crotch is done at the same time I add, “Miss Pennington would like to speak to him before he’s dismissed for the day.”
“One moment, Mr. Draak.” A set of swift key clicks promptly occur. “It appears as though he has the day off.”
Cameron instantly frowns at the news.
“Every Friday or just this one in particular?”
“Every Friday.”
How’d he arrange getting a three-day-weekend every week while I can’t so much as remember the last time I even took a vacation?
I wanna say it was the weekend before my parents died.
Spent four days in sin city getting exactly that on a non-angelic angel that turned out to be really into sensory play.
Perhaps I should plan a trip for me and Cami?
Fuck me, is it too soon to suggest that?
No.
You are not a good source for the answer to that question. I’ll consult…uh…Karry, maybe? She’s had significant others before. She should know.
I mentally note the idea to text her split seconds before Tyana asks, “Would you like me to send him and his supervisor an email to have him report to Miss Pennington Monday morning?”
“Afternoon,” I casually correct.
“Yes, Mr. Draak. I will get that sent now. Is there anything else you need from me at this time?”
An unexpected wave of warmth hits me prompting the unusual response she’s given, “Why don’t you go ahead and leave for the day once you’re done? Enjoy an early start to the weekend. Maybe even sneak away for it.”
The long lull leaves me wondering if she hung up or maybe fell out of her chair in shock. “Y-y-you sure? You never let me leave early.”
“Never seems like a stretch.”
“The last time I tried you told me I’d have to come in an hour early for the next thirty days to make up for those thirty minutes.”
Cameron’s head tilts in a scolding fashion.
Not loving the way this makes me look—or feel—I clear my throat and quickly end the call. “Send the email and enjoy your weekend, Tyana.”
“Thank you, Mr. Draak!”
The instant the line goes dead, Cameron chastises, “Those are the very real complaints I’m here to solve, Mr. Draak.”
“I can explain.”
“I don’t need you to explain. I need you to understand that your employees are living, breathing people—um—beings. They’re not robots or chess pieces or merely numbers without identities. You will be being assigned a mandatory seminar designed for employers who need reconditioning on how to speak to their subordinates.”
“You don’t have the authority to do that.”
“Oh, except that I do, Mr. Draak.” Her smile is deliciously vindictive. “Perk of being the head of HR for the entire company. Even those of you on the board have to comply with such requests or requirements. You could ask your nemesis Ms. Olsen for further proof if you like. I sent her to a two-day workshop on email tones just three months ago for publicly challenging my need for an hour lunch break rather than thirty minutes.”
How in the actual D is her being bossy both sexy and vexatious?
Right?
“She hated every. Single. Minute. Of it according to the instructor.”
Excellent.
Smiling internally at Platinum’s agreement precedes doing it externally. “Understood, Miss Pennington.”
“Good.”
“Permission to change subjects?”
She shoots me a cheeky smile and hits ignore on an incoming call from her father. “Granted.”
“There’s an other realm antique shop I frequent on the outskirts of town that’s having their monthly showcase of new discoveries tonight. Would you care to join me?”
Her eyebrows slowly lift to the ceiling. “And would this be for work or pleasure?”
“Both.”
The expression remains.
“Professionally speaking, I visit for inspiration for new seasonal designs as well as for purchasing pieces for our smaller—less well known—repurposing shop in Oregon. Their primary specialty isn’t selling DL & Co.’s latest and greatest but taking a person’s family jewelry, breaking it down, and creating the individual a unique item that fits them or the family they are trying to represent.”