Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 48567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“Totally kidding, he’s just suspicious, and he’s been working like a dog for the last few weeks before his assistant quit, so I told him it would be wise to take some time for himself.”
“I don’t need time for myself.” Eli chucks a pen toward Gabe, but Gabe catches it midair and calmly sets it on the table.
Gabe smiles down at the pen.
“Could have been worse, that stapler hurt like shit last week.”
I start to slowly back away.
“I don’t have that good of an aim or catch, so maybe I’ll just approach if asked, and I’ll email the schedule to you—”
“—Do you or do you not assist me?” Eli jumps to his feet and slams his hands onto his desk.
Gabe looks unfazed.
“Yes.” I nod slowly.
“I do.”
“Great, then print it off like an assistant would and come in here and read it to me, send a copy to Gabe, copy me and yourself in, do you think you can manage to do that?”
“Yes sir, yes, right away.” I scramble out of the room and chug half the latte before I set it on my desk.
He’s terrifying.
Menacing.
Rude!
The door shuts behind me a minute later. Gabe walks up to me, his sigh palpable.
“He really is a great boss he just… needs a break, he has a lot of stress.”
“So he chooses to stress everyone else out and project all his grumpiness on his employees?” What a great human being!
Gabe makes a face and crosses his arms over his black shirt. Just where did this guy come from? He’s tall like Eli, looks like he lives to run and go to the gym and has a kind smile. He pushes away from the table and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“It gets easier to deal with, send his schedule over when you can and let me know what you want to order for lunch.” He walks off like his partner's behavior isn’t a problem.
By the time I’m done emailing everyone and printing things off, my stomach hurts from being so hungry, I quickly message Gabe and tell him that anything would do at this point, then knock on Eli’s door.
“Come in,” he says gruffly.
Here we go. I open the door and walk toward his desk and sit in a nearby chair, crossing my legs.
When I don’t say anything, he frowns at me.
“You’re not camping out, you can stand if you want, you look uncomfortable, besides I can feel your hunger from my desk.”
I exhale, get to my feet and walk to the middle of the office. He gets up abruptly and walks around the desk with his tree trunk thighs and menacing height. I start to back away and put some distance between us when my heel gets caught on the rug; I start flailing backward until strong, warm arms suddenly catch me before I crack my head against the marble flooring.
It's Eli.
But he was in front of me, how’d he catch me from behind?
His eyes are so blue and hypnotic. His hands warm, they almost take up my entire upper back.
“Are you okay?”
My eyebrows shoot up.
“I think the fall was less surprising than you asking that question.”
His firm mouth draws into a small, barely there smile.
“Guess I deserved that, it’s just hard to control sometimes.”
“Your rudeness?”
Suddenly I’m back on my wobbly feet.
“So…” He coughs into his hand.
“My schedule?”
I take a deep breath.
“You meet with angel investors at noon for the new children's program, the marketing team for the Y right after that and—”
He holds up his hand.
“Not trying to be an ass, Ava, but you can’t just tell me what time and who they are. I need details along with the schedule. Am I driving? What’s the weather like? Do I have any downtime in between the meetings, or will the car meet me at the restaurant? What are the biographies of each individual? How much money for the marketing budget? And how much are the investors willing to give? You aren’t in trouble, I just need every minute detail.”
Tears well in my eyes. I hate being corrected, especially when I know the person is right and I look like I’ve been lazy.
“Sorry, it won’t happen again, let me go find all the answers and I’ll come back in.”
“Go.” It’s not a bark, it’s more gentle in nature, but he doesn’t even make eye contact, so I disappear out of his office and tell myself.
Round 2.
It takes me three hours to find all the information he needed, and I end up eating soup and bread at my desk—I’m not complaining, though it was amazing.
I want to take my heels off so badly, instead I make a second journey to his door, knock, wait for him to tell me to come in.
I expect him to be behind his desk, instead his white sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. I see the tribal tattoo again and quickly look away. His caramel brown hair is mussed like he’s been stressed.