Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
“Sorry, Taylor, gotta steal your boss for a few seconds.” Rhy placed a hand on my back, leading me from the kitchen to the industrial cooler at the back of the restaurant.
“All yours!” Taylor gladly handed me over like a problem child who had shit on his daycare cot. “Can you replace his batteries before you bring him back? He’s out of focus today.”
I watched as Rhyland closed the door to the cool, sprawling room. Five rows of fourteen-foot-high sub-zero metal shelves engulfed us. I leaned against the green leaves section, parsley poking into my ear.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I asked, “What do you want?”
Rhy smoothed out his suit, looking at me like I was an abandoned, drenched puppy. “Thought it was gonna be funny, but now I see the error of my ways. I may have stepped out of the Overton window, strong-arming you into hiring Cal. I wanted to make a point, and I made it. Since I now found replacements for Heather and Don—”
“We’re not firing her.” My nostrils flared.
I didn’t want to give Cal more power than she already had. Her existence in my domain didn’t throw me that off-kilter.
“You can’t concentrate for shit,” Rhyland said matter-of-factly.
“She demonstrated the ‘Macarena’ out there at some point.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “She’s like a car accident. Hard to look away from but horrifying, nonetheless. Just because she’s got my attention doesn’t mean that it’s positive. I’m over her.”
“Over her, my ass. Every time she bends over, you look like you need a cigarette. Look, I can give her a backend job. We need someone to do the filing, anyway. You’ll never see he—”
“She’s a decent server. You said so yourself, right?”
Rhy pursed his lips, his expression uncertain. “She’s a highly endearing individual. Like, the human answer to a unicorn. This can’t be news to you.”
“She’s still off-limits,” I barked out.
He raised his palms up. “Hey, no problem there. I’m not ready for children yet, and she definitely is one. I’m worried, though.”
“Why?”
“You give her too much power over you.”
A sarcastic smile found my lips. “Power is never given, you fool. It is taken. And anyway, I’m more pissed off than enamored.” I shrugged. “Keep her.”
“What about you?” He gave me a skeptical look.
“I’ll survive.” I had once, hadn’t I?
A knock on the door was followed by Taylor sticking his head inside. “Chef?”
“What?”
“Are you getting rid of our new server?”
I clenched and unclenched my fists. Was there anyone in this zip code who didn’t want to get into Cal’s pants?
“No. Why?”
“Because the entire kitchen loves her. I think she is singing an Adele song to one of the patrons.” Taylor beamed. “Using a baguette as a microphone.”
ROW
The doors to the Silverado slammed behind us. Cal immediately reached to turn on the radio. I covered the volume valve with my palm before she could touch it. “We need to talk.”
“Why?” she moaned. “We get along so much better when we don’t.”
“We get along best on different continents,” I grumbled, ready to be done with the conversation before we’d begun.
She cocked her head, turning her entire body to look at me, the seat belt clasped inside her little hand. She breathed out a tired sigh, letting her head fall backward. “Please don’t fire me. I just earned thirteen hundred bucks in tips and I think I might actually be able to afford renting some recording equipment when I get back to New York. I could finally start my business. I’ve been dreaming of starting a podcast since I wa—”
“Slow your roll, Little Miss Crapshine. One, I’m not gonna fire you. Two, I don’t care what you do with the money you earned. Waste it, burn it, donate it to Satanists in need. If we’re gonna work together, we need to set up some ground rules, though.”
“Oh.” She sat back, nibbling on the skin around her nail. “Sure.”
The engine roared to life, the vehicle purring as I turned to face her. She was a sexy trainwreck decanted into a cheap uniform. Her hair was tangled in disarray. Pink tips framed her face. Her cheeks matched them in color, and she looked so thoroughly fucked all I could think about was laying her down on my truck bed and fucking every single hole in her body until it was the shape of my cock.
Watching her waiting for my words made my dick hard. Come to think about it, watching her breathe made my dick hard. She could probably pick her nose and smear it all over my windshield and my dick would still go ramrod straight, awarding her with a standing ovation.
My issue was, there was no one else like Calla Litvin. I’d met plenty of sexy women over the years. Smart ones. Successful ones. Drop-dead gorgeous ones. But their qualities always carried that sameness that bored me. Cal was different. I never knew what was going to come out of her smart mouth. She approached everything she did with the enthusiasm and curiosity of a child…and the body of a very grown-up woman. It was time to douse her eagerness with a truth bomb.