Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“Oh, thanks so much. You didn’t have to do that. Why are you home so early?”
“I have that part-timer who closes on Tuesdays and Thursdays now, remember? So I can walk her dog Thursday, too, if you need it.”
“Thanks, but Mrs. Aster will be back tomorrow. She’s away at her sister’s.”
“You and your crazy barter deals. What does she give you in return, anyway?”
“Homemade cat treats.”
“Cat treats? But you don’t even have a cat.”
“Yes, but I trade them to a guy who does website development. He’s making one for me, for my rentals. If I rent direct, I can save the Airbnb fees.”
Greer sighed. “Why can’t you figure out how to trade for some primo sperm for me?”
Through my peripheral vision, I noticed Merrick glance over. His brows pulled together as he looked back down at his phone.
“Are you still at the office?” she asked.
“Actually, I’m on my way home.”
“Okay, be careful on the subway.”
“I’m in a car. My boss was heading uptown, so he offered to drop me off.”
“Oooh… Is this hot boss?”
This time my eyes flashed to Merrick. If he’d heard, he didn’t react. “I gotta run. Thank you for doing that for me. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
“Get me some sperm from hot boss!”
Now Merrick’s eyes definitely widened. Did she have to yell that? I closed my eyes. “Goodbye, Greer.” I felt the man next to me staring. I sighed. “You heard that, didn’t you?”
“Do you want me to pretend I didn’t?”
I nodded. “That would be great. Thank you.”
The corner of Merrick’s lip twitched, but he went back to staring at his phone. After a few minutes of awkward silence, I gave in.
“My sister and her husband have had some fertility issues. They’re in the process of looking for a donor. It’s been a running joke since I interviewed that she wants your sperm.”
“Why?”
“She wants someone with good genes—you know, smart, good looking, successful.”
“Did she and I ever meet?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Did she see a picture of me somewhere?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Merrick’s mouth slid to a cocky grin. “So she got her information about my appearance from…”
Shit. I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to be obnoxious about it. You’re good looking. Big deal. So are a lot of men.”
Merrick chuckled. “And the cat treat-website development barter?”
“Man, you heard everything, huh?”
He smiled. “Perhaps you should turn the volume down on your phone.”
“Or…you can just mind your own beeswax and pretend you didn’t overhear.”
“Why would I do that when you were engrossed in such a riveting conversation? Your sister is bartering for sperm?”
I laughed. “No, the bartering part of the conversation didn’t have anything to do with the sperm part—not really, anyway. I’m taking care of my sister’s neighbor’s dog. That neighbor makes organic cat treats that have CBD in them, so she pays me in those. I don’t have a cat, but the guy who’s building the website for my rental properties has one with bad anxiety, so it works out all around.”
Merrick shook his head. “Just curious. What could I get for sperm in the racket you have going?”
“Sadly, I probably can’t do much better than organic cat treats right now. I’m still establishing my network here in New York. I stopped doing it for a few years because Christian, my ex, hated when I bartered.”
“Why did he hate it?”
I shrugged. “I think it embarrassed him. He didn’t like people thinking I couldn’t afford things. But I had fun organizing all the barters and getting stuff for free. I sort of find it exhilarating. In hindsight, I should have bartered his ass for a backbone and done what makes me happy.”
Merrick’s eyes swept over my face, and he smiled. “Tell me what else you’ve bartered.”
“Everything.” I shrugged. “Anything. I’ve babysat for frequent flyer miles, got my oil changed in exchange for tutoring a mechanic’s daughter in math. Once I even traded baking forty dozen cookies to get my friend’s nursery painted with a Pete the Cat mural.”
“What’s Pete the Cat?”
“A cartoon.”
“Who needed forty dozen cookies?”
“A couple getting married who wanted to give everyone a small box with fresh-baked Italian flag cookies as a parting gift.”
“You make those things?”
I nodded. “I bake a lot. My grandmother owned a bakery when I was a little girl.”
“Milly did? I didn’t know that.”
“Yep. She sold it a year or two after my grandfather died. She said it wasn’t the same without him. But she still baked a lot, and it was something we did together every time I visited. I don’t remember ever walking into her house without it smelling like a fresh batch of cookies or a cake. I’m more of a mood baker than a regular baker, though. I don’t usually bake if things are just rolling along in my life. But if I’m happy or sad, I get a certain energy and need to keep myself busy, so I wind up in the kitchen. I also tend to snack when I’m nervous, so I suppose the baking and snacking go hand in hand. And…” I laughed. “I have no idea why I’m telling you all this.”