Chapter 4
Keeton
By the time she’s finished showing me how to search for invoices the easy way and has instructed me how to pay my bills through PayPal, I feel better. Not enough to know I can handle this and do my custom work too. No, something’s got to give. Molly had the baby a few weeks ago. She’ll be gone at least another five. By then, I’ll have majorly fucked up her system. So much so, I’m sure she’ll never speak to me again.
There’s also the risk that she won’t come back at all. She’s a single mom now. Her baby daddy is out of the picture. Dead. Afghanistan. A week before he was due to come home for good and three weeks before Madalyn was born. Damn, it hurts. I loved Adam like a brother. Hell, we were friends before the two of them even met. He was good to her, treated her like a princess, and she was perfect for him too. Goddamn it. It fucking sucks. So, no, I wouldn’t blame her for staying home and loving her baby like Adam would have wanted. She’ll have his pension and other benefits, which she’ll need, but it doesn’t make up for the fact that her man is gone. I swallow down the sadness. I don’t want Lainie wondering what the fuck is wrong with me.
“So, Lainie, you got another job?”
She’s sitting in my chair, typing away. I’m sitting in hers, watching.
“Another job?”
“Yeah, like, do you go to a job every day?”
Tapping her pretty chin with a pink-tipped finger she responds, “Well, that’s a difficult question to answer.”
“How so?” This girl is somethin’ else.
“While I don’t have a job, technically, I’ve got my writing, as you know.”
“Sure.” I thought she said she was just getting started.
“And I’ve got a few irons in the fire elsewhere.” She’s not looking at me as she chatters about her irons. “But, no, I don’t go to a job, per se.”
Per se?“Do you want one? Temporarily? Until Molly gets back?”
She blinks her pretty eyes at me, adjusting her glasses up her nose a bit. “When will she get back? Is it full time? What hours would I work? How much does it pay?” Pulling off the glasses she looks at me with a stern expression. Like a sexy librarian telling me tohush. “And what about that kiss?”
Fuck. I’m in trouble. “What about the kiss?”
“We probably shouldn’t keep kissing…”
“Why not? Why can’t we work together?” Why can’t we kiss? Or fuck? I lean forward in my seat, having come up with a genius idea. “Lainie. Think of it. If you worked here, some of the guys from the clubs will be in and out of here.” Her finger taps her bottom lip and it makes me want to bite it. The lip, not the finger, although... “Consider it research.”
“Oh. Right.”
“You could talk to them. Ask them questions for your story.” With me in the room. I don’t trust some of those bastards.
“That’d sure be nice.” She’s looking at me but not seeing me. Lost in thought like she’s too busy weighing her options. When her focus returns to me, a small smile slides across her lips. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course. Here,” I pull out my wallet, extracting one of my cards. Searching Molly’s desk for a pen, I find one under the debris. “Here’s my cell,” I say jotting down my digits. “Call or text me tonight.”
“Or tomorrow?”
“Sure, tomorrow works.”
I watch her stand up from behind Molly’s desk. Placing my card inside her purse, she slips the strap over her shoulder. “I’ll call tomorrow.”
“Or text. Either one.” Moving toward the door, I watch her walk past me. “Let me walk you out.” I stand from my seat and place my palm on her lower back. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, right? She leads the way out of the office, down the corridor, into the showroom.
“This is impressive,” Lainie says looking back at me.
“Yeah?” I like that she’s impressed.
She releases a giggle and my dick starts up again. Jesus, I need to get laid. Preferably by a curvy little brunette I know. “You know it is. Eric said it’s called Keeton’s Brag Room.”
Fucking Eric. “No, Eric calls it that because my little brother’s a pain in the ass.”
