Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
“Nice to see you too, Brad, James, Casey. Thanks for coming out again.”
James sits back on the couch, one big arm sprawled over the back. My buddy looks the picture of a casual male, but I can tell from the gleam in his eyes that he’s incredibly aroused by the pretty brunette and more than ready to get down.
“We’re the ones who invited you, sweetheart. After last time’s display, we were definitely going to follow up,” he drawls.
She titters.
“Oh good, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Carrie purrs, her brown eyes flashing mischievously. “And I promise, there’s more to come.”
Casey nods, patting the cushion beside him.
“I can believe it. But first, sit, sweetheart. Can I get you a drink? We’re serious about getting to know you. It doesn’t always have to be wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”
Carrie perches prettily on the sofa before smiling coyly at us.
“A mimosa would be great, thanks. I know it’s a morning drink, but there’s just something about champagne and orange juice that hits the spot every time.”
“Sure thing,” I growl, signaling to a waitress. “A mimosa coming right up.”
With that, Casey fixes our girl with a look. “So tell us about yourself, sweetheart. What is there to know about the beautiful Carrie Burkhart?”
“Oh, you found out my last name!” she giggles.
“We did,” I drawl. “We’ve been doing our digging.”
“Well, then you probably know that I work at Concord Design, the architectural firm. Except I’m not an architect,” she says hastily. “I’m just a secretary.”
I nod. Of course, we’ve compiled a dossier on this girl already, but there’s no sense in letting the cat out of the bag. As a result, my buddies and I pretend as if this is news to us.
“And do you enjoy it?” James asks, one black brow raised. “Being a secretary is honest work, and there’s no shame in being an admin.”
Carrie’s shoulders slump a little then.
“Yeah, I guess so. A job is a job, right? Working at Concord is fine, but it used to be more fun because I have a friend, Ramona, who used to work there too. But then she went on maternity leave, and who knows when she’ll be back?” Carrie asks in a rueful voice. “Probably never, seeing that her husband is some bigwig developer.” But then the brunette catches herself and sits up straight. “I’m not complaining though,” she says in a firm voice. “This job market is difficult enough as is, so I’m lucky to be employed. But yes, my degree is actually in Visual Merchandising, so it’s kind of a downer to be a secretary. ‘Underemployed,’ is what I think they call it these days.”
I grin.
“Hey, it’s a common problem. We all got degrees in totally random areas that have no bearing on our law practice now. It’s just part of the territory when it comes to a liberal arts education.”
Carrie perks then, her brown eyes bright.
“Oh really? You guys did liberal arts? What did you major in?”
“The history of medicine,” drawls James.
“General studies for me,” smirks Casey.
“And I did underwater basketweaving,” I say with a straight face as our date bursts into giggles. “No seriously, my major was classics, and I enjoyed it. It’s all about gods, heroes, and the wars they wage. But yeah, our undergraduate studies don’t really play a part in our professional lives today.”
Carrie nods.
“Yeah, it’s funny how college is like that, isn’t it?” she asks in a soft voice, more to herself than anything. “But what’s done is done. I got my two hundred thousand dollar piece of paper, and it even says “with honors” on it,” she murmurs with a soft smile. “At least I have that.”
Casey crows with laughter.
“I got my degree too, except mine should say ‘barely made it’ or ‘on academic probation every other semester’ and ‘pulled it out by a hair.’ That would be apt.”
I guffaw.
“More like yours should say ‘hardly went to classes’ and ‘fucking co-eds non-stop.’”
Casey merely shrugs.
“Yeah. But watch your language,” he rasps. “We have a lady among us.”
“Oh I’m no lady!” Carrie exclaims. “But yeah, I guess we all had interesting college experiences, so to say.”
James nods, his blue eyes bright.
“That we did. But tell us, sweetheart – what made you come to Club Z? I know you mentioned you were in a tryout phase, but why tryout to begin with? What’s brought you to this life?”
It’s clear we’ve hit on something because Carrie blushes again.
“Oh um, yeah,” she mutters, biting her lip. “I just wanted to see what it’s about, that’s all. The club has a great rep.”
I raise one black brow at her.
“Really? Your friends are talking about this institution?”
Carrie turns fire-engine red then.
“Not exactly talking about it. I mean, I don’t have any friends who are hostesses or anything. It’s just … well, the friend that I mentioned from before, Ramona. Her husband has a membership,” she says quickly. “It’s back from before he was married, but he said Club Z a legit outfit.”