Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Still, even with telling myself I’m going to stay away from him, I can’t help but ponder his words about man games. Is that another term for dating? Is it a game if you go on different dates with different men? How else are you supposed to find someone? Blake himself looked to be buying flowers for multiple women. Why else would he need so freaking many? Unless they’re all for one woman. The thought of him giving them to any woman doesn’t sit well with me.
The sudden jealousy that hits me catches me off guard. I chalk it up to thinking about a man going out and doing something sweet like that for me. Buying out a whole florist. Though I bet with how rude Blake tends to be most of the time, that they’re more I’m sorry flowers because he’s an asshole.
“Want to have lunch?” Novak asks when I come back into the office. His eyes go to the flowers in my arms. “Where did you get those?”
“I bought them.” I sit them down on the corner of my desk. Instead of letting myself feel jealous over the flowers Blake was buying, I decided to get some for myself. Why not? Sometimes you have to treat yourself to nice things. “You want lunch now? Did you already eat the sandwich?” I change the subject.
“I meant later.”
“I think you have lunch plans already.” I round the desk to my computer to pull up the calendar.
It’s normally the first thing I do when I come into the office, but Blake threw me off kilter. That man tends to have that effect on me for some reason. “Do you have a new project with Mr. Justice?” I ask as I wait for my computer to wake up. The only reason I even ask is to see how much time I’ll have to spend avoiding him.
“Maybe, but he’ll only be working with me,” Novak responds sharply. I know I never handle any clients on my own. I’m still learning, but he’s quick to make sure to shut that down.
“Is there a problem?” His response was sort of odd. It makes me think Blake said something to him.
“No, he just wants to make sure I handle it all. That everything is done to the standard he expects.” I nod in understanding. I’m starting to think that maybe Blake is a sexist jerk.
Figures. Why am I always attracted to terrible men? Though I can’t really say I was with my ex. We sort of fell into a relationship. One second I thought we were friends, and the next he was telling everyone we were together. I’m not sure why I went along with it, but it made things easier.
“You have lunch with Debra Parkers today.” I slip to the side so he can see the screen for himself.
“Right,” he grumbles.
“Plus, I already have plans for lunch.”
“With who?”
“The Sew Be It ladies.” Novak’s lips twitch into a smile.
“Have you ever thought of getting friends your own age?” he teases me.
“Hey, some of them could run circles around the both of us.”
“True,” he agrees with a chuckle before heading back into his own office.
Novak is a nice guy. He’s not bad on the eyes either, but he doesn’t do anything for me. Why can’t I be attracted to someone like him? Not that I would ever date someone I worked with. I learned that lesson the hard way. Never doing that again.
But why can’t I be attracted or into a good, normal guy? There is no spark with Novak. Nothing. I once mentioned that he should try a dating app, and he gave me a look like I’d lost my mind. He then went on to warn me off them. Hence me not wanting him to know. Plus, he’d probably tease me endlessly if he knew. Especially if he got wind of the whole Justin fiasco.
Gosh, I hope I don’t run into that man again. It’s probably inevitable, though, with this being such a small town. I’m sure at some point I will. I shake off the thought and let myself get lost in work until it’s time for lunch.
I let Novak know I’m heading out before I make my way down the street to the Sew Be It store. I think all the ladies opened this place so that they would have somewhere to hang out. I hardly ever see any customers. The bell on the door dings when I step in. All three turn in their chairs, and their needles stop moving to see who it is.
“Hey!” I smile.
Betty is the first out of her chair. She can never sit still for long. I debate if I should ask about the blue hair as she engulfs me in a hug. “How do you walk around in these heels all day?” she asks.