Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Catch me.
I should just stand the fuck up already, but for some reason my body refuses to move. So, I suck in a breath and hold it, praying she won’t look my way as she adds, “Well, come on, Bratty McHungrykins. Come get your treat, but then you have to go home.”
Edgar flaps into the air, presumably heading over to Clover, though I don’t lift my gaze to see for sure.
Maybe if I don’t look at her, she won’t look at me, and all of this will be over soon. Maybe I can still avoid the mortification of getting caught spying.
“What a greedy little turd you are,” Clover says with a laugh.
The fact that she seems to have the same love-hate relationship with the crow that I do makes me smile.
“Now, go on, get out of here,” she says over the sound of Edgar gobbling down whatever she brought for him. “And don’t come back again after ten p.m., or I’ll have to tell Maybelline. I’m serious this time, Gremlin.”
But Edgar doesn’t depart without a fuss.
Of course, he doesn’t.
He swoops over to land directly on my head, making me cry out in surprise and surge to my feet. As I stumble across the lawn, batting at my now empty scalp, he’s already flying home, cackling all the way.
I exhale, my shoulders sagging in defeat as I turn to take my medicine.
“Well… Hey there, boss,” Clover says, crossing her arms and arching a wry brow. “Out for a late-night stroll through the bushes?”
I sigh. “Sorry.”
She cocks her head, a silent challenge that reminds me of Edgar’s, before she asks, “For what? For spying on me?” She pauses, her arms tightening across her chest. “Or for firing me and not telling me about it?”
My throat closes up. Shit.
How did she find out about that? I haven’t told anyone, at least not anyone outside the Voodoo administrative offices. I haven’t even told Blue or Nix or the rest of the team yet. I was going to do that Monday morning, when I went to grab a few things from the locker room before starting my two weeks of leave.
Before I can come up with a single feasible explanation, Clover adds, “Capo and Keely were at The Wall tonight. Keely told me about your emergency leave of absence.”
My brows shoot up. “What? Why… Why would she do that?”
Seriously, why? Not only is sharing my personal information unprofessional, but I thought Keely and I were friends. Or at least brother-and-sister in arms over the whole “divorced in our mid-thirties and hating it” thing.
Though I confess her story is a lot uglier than mine. At least Frederica didn’t cheat on me in my own bed.
Clover shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe she thought I deserved to know? I mean, it is my job and my livelihood that’s going away pretty soon.” My lips part in what I already know will be a lame attempt to explain myself, but she pushes on before I can speak, “But it’s fine. I mean…it’s not fine, not at all, but whatever. We shouldn’t talk about it tonight. We can discuss it tomorrow. Or Monday.” She takes a step backward. “But don’t be mad at Keely, she was drunk and sad. She just found out her ex’s side piece is pregnant with twins, so…”
I bare my teeth, hissing in a breath. “Shit. No.”
She nods. “Shit, yes. So, give her a break. If you want to be mad at someone, you can be mad at me for pulling it out of her.”
“I’m not mad at you, Clover,” I say, stepping closer, hating that I’ve hurt her like this. “This isn’t about you. This is about me.”
She rolls her eyes with a huff. “Wow. God, you really didn’t even try with that one, did you? That’s like the oldest ‘good guy’ break-up line in the book. Only we’re not dating, and you’re not a good guy. A good guy wouldn’t fire someone with no warning.”
“You’re right,” I agree. “A good guy would have handled all of this better. A good guy also wouldn’t think the things I think about you, all day, every day. Every time you brush crumbs off your lips or bend over to pick a toy up off the floor. You’re my employee. It’s gross.”
“It’s not gross,” she says, holding her ground as I step closer. “It’s normal. We have chemistry. That doesn’t mean we can’t make this work.”
“Yes, it does,” I cut in.
“Why?” she challenges, her lips parting as I stop a few inches away. Her voice is huskier as she adds, “Because you’re afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”
“Yes,” I grit out. “I’m afraid I’m going to do what I did last Saturday. Only this time, I won’t stop you when you get down on your knees to suck my dick.”