Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Hello stranger,” she says. “Have a seat.”
A nervous sweat breaks out under my arm pits. I’m glad I chose a blue top rather than a white one. “Thanks.” Does she expect me to have something already?
She rests her hands on the table and leans forward. Her face becomes animated the way it does when she’s excited about something. I’ve never been the recipient of her excitement. “So I have this idea of writing a series of articles, gently introducing the reader to how things work at The Anderson Clinic.”
I nod to indicate that she should go on.
“Initially, we were to do one big investigative piece but I figured why not build on it. Start small so that by the time we drop the bombshells, we’ll have in essence created the world of The Anderson Clinic.”
“What kind of pieces?”
“Anything that introduces to the clinic.” She waves her hands around. “Maybe profiles of people who work there.”
When she says profiles of people who work there, something goes off in my brain. Ideas fill my mind like stars on a starry night. I nod vigorously. “Sounds interesting.”
Our discussion goes on for another fifteen minutes and when we’re done, I can’t wait to get started. I go to my cubicle and fire up my computer. It’s quiet all around me except for the sound of fingers hitting keyboards. As I wait for the computer to turn on, I check my phone. There’s a message from Jace.
You left already? I rushed back from the clinic only to find the apartment empty.
I smile as I text him back. Sorry, I had to leave. Busy day.
Guilt snakes its way into my heart. I love Amelia’s idea but I hate that I have do it without Jace’s permission. Work is work, I tell myself. He of all people would understand. In the short time that I’ve worked for Jace, I’ve come to learn how much he loves his job and how important it is to him. I’d say the same about myself. I love my work and investigating the happenings at the clinic will ultimately make it a better place for everyone. My guilt temporarily reigned in; I turn my attention to work.
I pause for a moment and think of all the employees of the clinic that I know so far. Sarah, who calls every so often to check on me and her boss. Rosie at the cafeteria who has a motherly warmth and serves food with a smile all the time. The ladies who work in the fertility wing. How much they are obviously at home at the clinic. My fingers fly over the keyboard as I write.
The story pours out of me and when I’m done, I reread it and I can’t help but feel proud of myself. It’s the kind of story that makes me feel fulfilled. As if I’m making a difference. I reread it and it dawns on me that this will have to be published after I leave the clinic.
It’s too telling. The writer is obviously someone who is familiar with the inner workings and, being the newest staff member, the suspicion will fall on me. I spend the next couple of hours editing it and coming up with other ideas that give insight into how special The Anderson Clinic is without giving away my identity.
***
Excitement courses through me as I wait for Jace to pick me up. He’s not late. I’m the one who is early. While I wait, I catch up with Chris over text. He complains that he hasn’t seen me since I went undercover. I suppose I have been busy. I text Charlotte and my brother as well, just to check up on them.
Jace is a stickler for time and at exactly half past six, he lets me know that he’s downstairs. I glance at my outfit one last time. I’m wearing a summer dress because one, Jace likes me in dresses or skirts and two, I wasn’t sure what to wear but you can never go wrong with a dress.
The appreciation in Jace’s eyes lets me know that I made the right choice. His eyes roam over me as I stride toward him. “Hey beautiful,” he says and when I reach him, he kisses me on the mouth without caring who might see us.
“Hi,” I say, kissing him back.
I’m in a happy bubble as we drive to his brother’s place. As Jace drives, he rests his hand on my thigh, and my skin tingles. This man has an unbelievable effect on me. Feeling playful, I do the same, except my hand rides up higher on his thigh until it’s tantalizing close to the bulge in the front of his pants.
“Want me to make a detour?” Jace asks casually.
“Where to?”
“Back home. My place or yours.”
I laugh and take my hand away. We drive into an exclusive gated community and a few houses down, Jace slows down and turns the car into a driveway. It’s a gorgeous home. The perfect place to raise a family.