Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Honey sat at the hotel desk, clad in her pink panties and bra, her legs crossed. She sipped on her wine while El Debarge crooned, ‘You Wear it Well.’ Her computer playlists were working overtime today. She didn’t even remember adding this song, but maybe she’d been feeling nostalgic when she did. She needed a minute to decompress. Unwind. It had been a long day at the new restaurant site—a boring, shameful, terrible day.
She snapped photos of the construction workers and pretended to be enthralled with the process of the machinery turning over soil to place a trench and all that making a new structure entailed. She shuddered as feelings of degradation and disrespect crept inside her soul, making her bitter and harsh. She snatched the wine glass once again from where she’d set it on a small table and drained the contents, then looked at the half-empty bottle sitting on the kitchenette counter like she would some sexy best friend that was always down for whatever.
She’d swear the thing smiled at her, as if waiting for her to come around the mountain one more time. Fidgeting in her chair, she perused more photos from her camera then decided to review the cool ones she’d taken the night prior. Uploading them onto a stick drive, she got ready to check them out. She folded her legs beneath her, rocking to the music as she studied the shots of the bridge, Stupas and statues, gardens, extraordinary houses, the highway, and so much more.
This angle could have been better, but I can make it work… I can fix this in the software… That’s not a good shot at all—delete…
When she got to the final photos of the warehouse, she began working on their clarity. They’d been the only ones taken in almost pitch-dark conditions, but sometimes that added a special quality to the work. On the other hand, they could be totally useless and need to be erased.
She enlarged several of them, using special software on her laptop to lighten them without losing the integrity of the photo. Not a waste after all… She magnified the men she’d seen standing towards the front. They were much clearer now. Some had on gold chains or cowboy hats. All of them held guns. She then realized she missed a guy who stood way in the back of the building, holding something.
She magnified that part of the photo and noticed he’d been carrying big canteens. Adjusting the light once again, she tried to read the labels but couldn’t.
Wait a minute… those aren’t canteens. That’s liquor. R.E.…
She squinted, trying to make out the letters but when she tried to zoom in, things became too pixelated. She put on her reading glasses and looked again.
R.E.M.Y. … Remy Martin!
She zoomed in on an open box. DOM PERIGON… Well, hell. Rich tastes, huh? Is it a celebration? Why so much though? If that entire box is filled with wine and liquor, and it looks like it is, then that’s enough to make all of Europe drunk ten times over. Okay, let me think about this for a second…
Why in the heck would there be alcohol at a box warehouse though? Maybe they help package it before it’s sent? They could work for a distillery. I didn’t think packaging companies worked that way? I could have sworn it was a warehouse that sold boxes.
She quickly did a Google search of the business sign that had been on the front of the structure:
WILDE PACKING MATERIAL CO.
Owner: James Wilde
Wilde Packing Material Company is a small business in Denver, Colorado that specializes in protective outer packaging, molded packing, and wrapping parts for product safety and security. Our mission is to ensure that all Denver customers receive professionally made containers for their products, and to supply local moving companies with materials for their relocating clients. Make an appointment with Wilde today. On all sides, we’ve got you covered.
She clicked on the link to the website and saw boxes being made in an online video brochure, as well as packaging peanuts and the like. There was one photo of a product, a dollhouse, which showed how the peanuts protect the doll during shipping. She typed in the name, James Wilde, followed by the company name. His picture came up. Had she’d been speaking, she would’ve choked over her words and stuttered. She caressed her throat with her fingertips, her brow rising with approval while a smile crept on her face. There, on the screen, was a tall, dark-haired man in a business suit and a killer grin.
He can stuff my box any day of the week. When did box company owners start being so sexy? Shouldn’t he be some balding guy with a gut? I guess I’m bringing up used car salesmen stereotypes. Who really knows what a corrugated box company owner would look like? Not like this… I promise you that.