Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Aurora, right?” he asks.
“That’s right.”
He smiles broadly. “Would you be interested in going out for dinner on Wednesday night?”
Jamie makes a face as she sweeps around her chair.
I start to turn him down. Who goes on a dinner date in the middle of the workweek? My lips part with a practiced speech about being too busy to date right now, but thanks for the offer. But before those words can come, I stop myself.
Why turn him down? Is he my dream man? No. But I’m supposed to be making sure that I sample the goods before I settle down again, and I’ve never dated a vino lover before. Maybe it’s what I’m into.
I snort, covering it with a cough. It’s not what I’m into. But at least I won’t be home rotting and dreaming of Tate. That’s the real objective.
I think.
“Why not?” I say, returning his smile as widely as I can. “Let’s do it.”
Jamie mutters something under her breath.
Curtis’s face lights up. “Would you like to go anywhere specifically?”
“I like about everything.”
“I really prefer that you pick the place, so I know you’ll enjoy it.”
“Okay,” I say, wishing he had taken the lead and made the decision. “How about Leo’s downtown?”
He frowns. “Sorry, but I’m not really into seafood.”
“Okay. How about Caesar’s?”
“That’s fine.”
Don’t sound too excited. You could’ve picked the place if you had this many feelings over the location.
“What time?” he asks. “Let’s do it before seven. It’s so much cheaper in the evening.” He taps the side of his head. “Gotta save where you can so you can have more money for vino.”
Oh my God. Help me. Please.
I look at Jamie, regretting my decision already. She shakes her head, amused.
“Six,” I offer, trying not to cringe. If he can’t make it at six, I’ll back out.
“I think I can make six,” he says. Great. “Should we meet there?”
“Sure.”
“Awesome. I’ll see you then, Aurora. Goodbye, Jamie.”
She nods. “Bye, Curtis.”
I hold my breath and Jamie holds her broom, neither of us moving or speaking until the door closes behind him.
“What the hell was that?” I ask, slumping back into my chair.
“Did you not read my face? I was telling you to say no. And don’t lie because I know my face speaks for me.”
I hand her the bottle of vino. “I did read your face, but I chose to ignore it. That’s apparently what I do now. I ignore every gut instinct and sign from the universe.”
My brain sorts through a plethora of things I’ve done in the past few days that I shouldn’t have because I knew better.
Converse with Tate on the plane. Staging a run-in with him at Ruma. Going to his room and letting him bend me into a pretzel. I snuck out, ignored my boss’s calls, and ate half of a pie in my hotel room with a plastic spoon. Even though it was the best damn pie I’ve ever tasted, it still made me nauseous the whole flight home. And then I agreed to work under the guy I just laid under like I have some magical ability to separate the two.
The list goes on and on.
Jamie locks the door and flips the sign around to Closed. Then she heads into the back and retrieves two wineglasses that we hide for nights we hang out and clean, organize, or work late.
“So guess what happened to me today,” I say, accepting a glass of wine from her.
“I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Start with the wildest coincidence that you can imagine. Really let your mind wander. Be creative.”
The phrase creative juices comes to mind, and I wonder if this is the rest of my life. Will something happen every day to bring me back to the less than twenty-four hours I spent with Tate?
She sips her drink, wheels spinning in her head. “You’re pregnant.”
“What? No. Why would you even say that?”
“It meets the parameters. It would be wild, and a coincidence since you’ve just started being active sexually again. It’s also creative.”
I down half of the glass of wine, willing the alcohol to hit and wear down the edge of my nerves. Jamie reaches over to give me a refill.
“No, I’m not pregnant,” I say, shaking my head. “I hate you for even saying that.”
“Why?”
“Why? Why would you even put that into the universe? If I’m going to be a mother, I’d like for it to be with someone I’m in a serious relationship with, not some guy I decided to bang one random night.”
Because Tate would be the daddy.
An image of him carrying a sweet little nugget tries to enter my mind, but I punch it back like my worst enemy. Definitely not going there.
“That’s fair.” She grins devilishly. “But I can’t help but love the fact that you just said those words. Not some guy I decided to bang one random night. My baby girl is back.”