Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
"Sir?"
Guy was extremely tempted to read that as an invitation to play master-and-servant. But since the way she croaked the word out did hint of genuine nervousness—
"Jillian Kitt?"
He decided to play the gentleman, and what do you know?
His no-longer-blind date looked as if she was now ready to swoon, just like a Victorian lady would.
"Am I too early?" he asked politely.
Her mouth opened and closed, reminding him of a goldfish. A rather attractive goldfish, if such a thing existed.
"I said I'd be here ten minutes to eight."
"Y-You're the pet sitter?"
"Indeed I am," Guy confirmed without missing a beat. Contrary to what the minority online had to say, he did not win an Oscar on the strength of his looks alone. But more importantly than that—
Well played, Mrs. Rossfield.
When Poppy had briefly excused herself to go to the ladies that night, Valerian had told Guy to 'brace himself'.
No man's cynicism is a match for my wife's enthusiasm.
And indeed that was true, since never in Guy's life had he imagined he would willingly play the role of a 'pet sitter' if that was what it took to claim the woman he instantly desired.
"I, um..."
His date's hesitation was evident, and any man with a conscience would have likely asked her what was wrong and give her a chance to back out.
But since being a gentleman was simply a role he played and not his true self...
"Poppy was very clear about me being of service." It was a complete lie, of course, but he had always been a great believer of the ends justifying the means. "And since I owe her husband a favor..."
"I see..."
The words had her chewing on her lip, and Guy found himself thinking about certain parts of him that she was very much welcomed to chew.
How refreshing it was, Guy mused, to want a woman this badly and be intrigued by her at the same time. He couldn't even recall the last time he had dated a woman that fit the same description. Perhaps never?
"The thing is..."
Realizing that she was about to turn him down, Guy didn't hesitate to smile—the exact same smile that had earned him nearly a billion dollars from a romantic comedy that every other A-list actor had turned down but him—and masculine satisfaction blazed inside of him when he saw her cheeks immediately turn pink.
Good.
She might be wary of him, but she was not immune to him.
He could definitely work with that.
But in the meantime...
"I'm a fast learner," Guy said cajolingly, "so why not give me a try?"
The double entendre wasn't lost on him, but she seemed oblivious to it as she hesitated, clearly torn.
"I was told you had somewhere important to go?"
No one had told him any such thing, but this was easy enough to deduce, and it also proved to be the magic words that had his date taking a deep breath—
Finally.
—before saying, "Could you give me a minute?"
Guy had no chance of replying, with Jillian already slamming the door on his face.
The sound reverberated in the quiet evening air, and Guy found himself staring at the closed door with a mixture of amusement, inexplicable desire, and that felt dangerously like genuine interest.
Chapter Three
Jilly: Just checking in. No need to reply unless you’re dead.
Jack: I am not dead.
THE HUMAN WHIRLWIND.
If anyone cared to ask what superpower she desired to have, that would be it.
To turn herself into a whirlwind, just so she could go throughout her apartment as fast as she could, hide as much as she could, and clean as thoroughly as she could.
Jilly dashed from room to room, snatching up movie posters, collector's edition DVDs, and—oh my gosh—that unauthorized biography with the gold-embossed lettering that spelled out HIS name. She shoved everything she could under the bed, into closets, and even under the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. Anywhere was fine as long as it was out of sight.
Oh, Poppy, I'm so going to send you memes of girls salivating after your husband if I ever survive this. And I will make sure they're the extra disturbing kind that will haunt you in your sleep!
But in the meantime...
Jilly tried to catch her breath as she halted in front of the hallway mirror, which revealed the wild look in her eyes and the flushed state of her cheeks.
Gaaah.
She looked like she had just survived a hurricane.
Only in this case, the hurricane was self-made and self-inflicted.
You can do this, Jilly.
She hastily combed her still-wet hair with her fingers and nervously ran a hand over the navy fabric of her jumpsuit. Surely he would understand that she had dressed up for the occasion...and not him. She just didn't want him to think that she had made herself pretty...for him. And why that was so important, well...it just was, and she was going to leave it at that.