Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“And this?” I’m curious, even though the date assumption is off-base.
Frankie snorts. “You don’t need me to tell you that date went awesome, Mr. Daniel. You know,” he says slyly.
He’s right. I read people too, but I think my reading might be a bit off when it comes to Tiffany Young. Which could be very, very dangerous for both of us.
Chapter 6
Tiffany
Elle once told me that when opportunity knocks, you yank the door open, pull opportunity inside, and tackle it to the floor to make it your bitch. I’m not so sure how well she lived that mantra, considering how often I had to give her a little ‘push’ to get a few doors opened in her life (her husband, cough, cough), but I’m going to follow her advice.
That’s my plan, at least.
And opportunity is spelled D-A-N-I-E-L.
I could see it in his eyes last night and feel it in the air between us. He wanted to make a move on me. Me, Tiffany Young! I smile to myself, barely believing it. Unfortunately, he didn’t sweep me up into his arms and take me against the nearest surface. No, he’s hesitant and doesn’t want to admit it. Which is fine by me. He’s a thinker, an analyzer, a control freak, and I like that about him. Those also happen to be some of my best traits, and I’m not going to let him decide until he’s seen what I’m bringing to the negotiation table.
This isn’t exactly the sort of thing we can walk into casually. It’s got to be with open eyes and understanding because of, one, Elle, and two, work. But, though I love my job, I would go work somewhere else in a heartbeat if it meant being with Daniel, and Elle kinda gave me her blessing on chasing Daniel years ago. She didn’t think it’d ever actually happen, and it might’ve been more of a sure with a shake of her head, but she didn’t exactly say no.
So, I’m putting my much-considered plan into action. I’ve taken my time today, thinking this through from every angle before getting dressed thoughtfully. I’m aiming for sexy, but with class, and casual with quality.
That’s a lot of mental gymnastics to put on workout gear, but there’s a method to my madness. And oh, yeah, this is totally crazy. I’m doing it anyway.
I pull on my best pair of black workout pants, the ones with a designer label, ruching that makes my ass look spectacular, and mesh inserts that flash a sliver of skin along my outer thigh. Next, I grab a pink tank top. It’s tight enough to keep the girls locked, loaded, and lifted without putting my cleavage on full display, plus the back dips down a tiny bit, showing off my upper back. Lastly, I add a pair of tennis shoes that show minimal signs of wear. I want it to look like this is just a little something I threw on carelessly for errands today.
After that, I braid my hair before putting on some barely-there, natural makeup. I study my reflection in the mirror. Yep, perfect. I look pretty but also ready to work.
Despite the care I put into my outfit, the real prep is my kit.
I pull together cleaners, scrub brushes, and microfiber towels. Daniel got his car guy to take care of my mess before I could handle it, but I have other ideas on how I can thank him for rescuing me.
Flashes of memories have come back, and other than his car, I know I trashed at least one of his bathrooms. Could I figure out his house cleaning service and give them a call? Sure. Am I going to do that? Nope. Because that doesn’t get me time with Daniel again. And that’s the bottom line of my grand plan. Time together so he sees me as more than Elle’s bestie and surrenders to the magnetic pull between us.
Yeah, this calls for the personal touch, the Tiffany treatment.
He mentioned working from home today over dinner last night, joking that he does that most weekends, and I’m taking full advantage of the insider knowledge to go on the offense.
Of course, my plan is risky. There’s the potential that I totally misread everything last night, projecting my own desires onto him, and I’m going over there to loudly and outwardly declare myself a stage-five stalker-clinger.
Hide the pointy objects, Tiffany’s here!
Either or, you know? Go big or go home.
But as I take the elevator up to his condo, I know that this is my move to make. Daniel would never. Not because he’s not confident but because he’s well aware of the dangers this could present, and he tends to play things conservatively and strategically. So it’s up to me. I won’t be able to get what I want without taking this risk.