Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
I just smiled again. I’d been living in the city long enough that just because a guy seemed nice didn’t mean he was. If he was trying to pick me up at the bar, chances were he was only after one thing. And that one thing was not something I was willing to give up to him.
“I’m actually here visiting my friend.” Before I could gesture to Michael, the guy moved in a little closer. Great, he was already becoming a clinger.
“Can I buy you another drink?”
I shook my head and lifted up my nearly full piña colada. “Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’m good.”
I saw Michael glance up at me, his gaze going to the guy sitting beside me, lifting his eyebrow and cocking his lips in amusement. I hid my amusement as well. He chuckled softly and shook his head before walking over to me, a rag over his shoulder. The guy beside me kept talking about his work, and I just wanted to rip my hair out. I was not a confrontational kind of person and didn’t want to be rude. But I wasn’t interested. Not in the slightest.
“So, maybe you’d want to get dinner or something sometime?”
I looked to my left. I think he said his name was Barry. Or Bob. The music was so loud I hadn’t even heard him clearly, and I hadn’t been interested enough to have him repeat it.
“Hey, buddy.”
I glanced over at Michael after he spoke. He had his focus on Barry/Bob, this serious, stern expression on his face.
“The lady isn’t interested. Go spit your game on someone else.”
Barry/Bob looked between Michael and me, and after a few seconds gave me a sheepish smile before nodding once and getting up to leave.
Clearly, I hadn’t been something he wanted to fight for. Thank God.
I looked at Michael and we stared at each other for a suspended moment before both of us burst out laughing. “I swear,” I said and leaned in to take another sip of my piña colada. “I always attract ones like that.” I took another drink, sucking a little bit more down this time. The burn was starting to fade as I got used to the alcohol.
“I mean, it could’ve been worse.”
I lifted an eyebrow in skepticism. “Believe me, it could’ve been a lot worse.”
I started laughing as I looked around the bar full of people. “True that.”
“Now finish that so I can get you round two.”
I chuckled softly and leaned in to bring the straw to my mouth. I sucked and felt the cold, slushy alcoholic beverage fill my mouth. When I swallowed, I tried in vain not to cough, but my eyes watered and I felt that burn renew and travel down my throat.
“God, Michael.” I wheezed and saw him grin. “What did you put in here, gasoline?”
He tipped his head back and laughed. “Drink up, buttercup. The night’s still young.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Olive
Several days later
“Miss Morris, can you give me your day-to-day at your last employment?”
I felt my throat tighten as the woman in front me gave the interview.
“Of course.” I was trying to act professional, but I knew what would come after this. I started telling her about my activities at Brookwood Financial Holdings. I guess I’d been a glorified coffee maker, and a pro at making copies and taking appointments. I swear she didn’t even blink as I told her the rundown.
And once I was finished, she leaned back in her seat and gave me a small smile. “It says on your resume your employment with Brookwood Financial Holdings ended just last week?” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
I licked my lips and nodded. “Yes, unfortunately it did.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“It says here you were only there for about two months. Can you let me know the reason for the short employment?”
I shifted on the seat a little uncomfortably, knowing that as soon as she found out I’d been fired this interview would be over. She’d probably give me this condescending smile and tell me she’d be in touch.
“Well, as much as I enjoyed the position, my employer, Mr. Brookwood, let me go.” My voice was tight at the end, strained.
She didn’t say anything right away, but I could see in her expression she already knew this. She’d probably already contacted them to find out my work history and why I’d left, which meant she wanted to see what I had to say about it. She wanted to see if I’d be honest and admit I got fired.
And I was pretty sure the only reason I was sitting here right now for this interview was because she’d found out about me being fired after the interview had been scheduled.
“So they let you go?” Why she would ask when I knew she was aware? Was this like some kind of sadistic play?