Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“What?” I ask, shocked. “I thought the earliest you can get is six thirty.”
“Yeah, unless you are Kirby, who knows someone and he did him a favor.” He shakes his head, and I can’t help but laugh. “Half the guys are still there.”
“Isn’t that nice bonding,” I joke with him and he glares at me.
“It’s fine playing against the football guys, but you play against Kirby and it’s…” he states and my stomach flutters for a split second. “His swing is insane and you know he can putt like a motherfucker.”
“Good to know.” I put my hands in my pockets. “There is water and juice if you want, and we’ll get started when you are ready.”
“Let’s get this over with,” he says, sitting on the stool set up in front of a green screen. “Let’s get me a B.”
I laugh at him. “I don’t know if we should use that letter anymore,” I joke with him. It takes me twenty-two minutes of asking him questions before he gets up and walks out of the room. The next bachelor is waiting to take his place. I stand as I listen to their answers, rolling my eyes a few times and then shaking my head more times than normal.
Cheryl comes in to check on things and then rushes out. I see some of the players stopped by the janitor as they leave. He tries to talk to them and they smile and hold up their hands before rushing out of the hospital.
Kirby walks in with ten minutes to spare and the stool is ready. He’s wearing golf attire also. “Hi,” he greets, running his hands through his hair, “hope it’s okay I’m early.”
“More than okay. We are ready for you,” I tell him. “Do you want a coffee or a juice before we start?”
“No, thank you.” He holds up his hand. “I just finished lunch with the guys.” I smile at him. “It was supposed to be one game and then they doubled down. Good news is, I have money to bid on some items at the fundraiser next week.”
“Did you trick them?” I ask him.
“Me?” He puts his hand to his chest. “I would never do that. It’s not my fault they assumed I didn’t know how to play golf.” He walks over and he’s the first one who introduces himself to the camera guy, even sharing a handshake. “Make me look pretty.” He winks at him as he sits down.
“We are ready when you are,” I tell him and he just smiles at me.
His blue eyes light up. “I’m always ready.”
I look down at the sheet of paper, avoiding looking at him longer than I have to. It’s inappropriate, to say the least. “Are you a morning person or a night owl?”
“Depends,” he answers to the camera. “If it’s a game day, then I’ll probably be a night owl, but other than that, I think I’m more of a morning person. Sort of get everything out of the way and then you can relax.”
I nod at his answer. “Speaking of relaxing, what do you do to wind down after a day at the office?”
He laughs at the question. “I’m a homebody,” he admits. “I’ve always been a homebody. I travel so much during the year with my schedule that any time I’m home, I want to be in my home.”
“What do you consider the perfect date?” I ask him the same question I’ve asked everyone else.
“That would depend, really,” he starts and I just look at him. “Well, it’s not just up to me. It’s a date, so it would also depend on what she wants to do.” My ears ring and the back of my neck starts to heat up. “If I want to take her to a restaurant and then a movie, that’s great. But if she wants to go bowling instead, it’s something I need to consider. If I would have to be spontaneous about the date, I would ask her questions about her likes and dislikes and then base it on that. I mean, what if I want steak and she’s a vegetarian?” He laughs. “That wouldn’t be a great date, would it?”
I nod, not sure I can say anything, the lump in my throat is bigger than it’s ever been. The idea of someone asking me what I like or what I would want to do feels so foreign. I look down at the sheet. The words look like they are all over the place as I try to get my heartbeat down to normal. I have five other questions to ask him, but I suddenly just need to get this over with. So I just go to the last question. “Why should these ladies bid on you?”
“Well.” He smirks. “Besides it being for a good cause”—he shrugs—“I have this amazing quality—I know useless information. Like the most random stuff. But it’s probably because I used to watch Jeopardy with my grandmother when I was younger. Now I just watch it with my cat. I actually have it set to record when it’s on.” I can’t help but chuckle at that information which makes him smirk at me. I see his leg move up and down nervously. “Secondly, I’m loyal to a fault, if you hate her, I hate her.” He shakes his head. “I’m kidding.” He looks at me and I can’t help but smile again. “You can cut that out.” I just shake my head as he looks into the camera. “I think I can converse well. I am a fun guy to be around, and I can pretty much guarantee you’ll have the best time. We’ll go on the date you’ve been dreaming about”—his eyes come to mine—“because I’ll let you choose what we do and when we do it.” My stomach feels like it’s going to my throat as he looks back at the camera guy. “That’s all I’ve got.”