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)
Goose bumps break out across my skin as a bout of anxiety hits me full-on. Tate was supposed to be my spicy little secret, a moment in time to bridge two eras of my life together. He wasn’t supposed to be a fixture in my life.
And he wasn’t supposed to make me feel anything but satisfied.
What did you really think would happen when you picked him to share the night with, Aurora, you fool?
Oof.
“Fine,” I say, picking up my things from the table. “We’re both adults. We’re capable of a working relationship.”
“Absolutely.”
“And on that note, I need to get back to my office,” I say, heading for the door. “I’ll email you this afternoon with a revised schedule for this week.”
I plant a hand on the door to push it open when Tate calls out.
“Aurora.”
My heart leaps in my chest as I stop pushing. “Yeah?”
“You could’ve left me half of the pie.”
I snort, shaking my head, and walk out.
Chapter Fourteen
Aurora
Me: Tell me you’re off tonight.
Jamie’s answer is immediate.
Jamie: I should be done around six. Need to clean the salon, though. It’s been a week already, and it’s only Monday.
Me: I’ll come by and help.
Jamie: Bring wine.
Me: Try whiskey.
Jamie:
Me: It’s been that kind of day.
Jamie:
Chapter Fifteen
Aurora
“Hey,” I say, entering the salon from the back. The familiar smells and sounds from the old building help recenter me from the day’s chaos. No matter where I work or how much I love working elsewhere, The Luxe will always be home. “Where are you, Jamie?”
I peek into her office. The light is on, but the room is empty.
“I’m in the front,” she calls back.
“Today has been a day, and I mean a day,” I say, traipsing through the building with a wine bottle swinging in my hand. “Wait until you hear this. It’s going to blow your mind.”
“If you could give me just a few minutes before you blow my mind, that would be great,” she says. “Unless, of course, you don’t mind Curtis hearing your story.”
I round the corner and wince. A man sits in her chair with a cape covering his chest. He’s probably a little older than us, but handsome in a slightly distinguished way.
“Sorry,” I say, giving him a little wave. “I didn’t realize Jamie still had a client.”
“It’s no problem at all.” He nods toward the bottle at my side. “What kind of wine is that, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Cheap and red.”
“She was supposed to bring whiskey,” Jamie says, dusting his neck. “I’m not sure how to read the fact that she opted for wine instead.”
I plop down in the chair my clients sit in when I’m working. “It’s simple. I have to drive home and work tomorrow. As much as this day warrants whiskey, wine is the more responsible option.”
“If you ever want pointers on vino, I’d be happy to share my knowledge with you,” Curtis says. “I’m somewhat of a wine connoisseur.”
Something about how he says it makes me want to laugh—not with him, but at him. Who calls themselves a wine connoisseur? And unless you’re Italian—which I’d bet he’s not, who says vino?
“We’re more like amateurs instead of experts when it comes to wine,” Jamie says. “As long as it does its job, we’re happy.”
“You ladies are missing out,” Curtis says. “Wine is an experience.”
I choke, pressing a hand to my chest as I hack up a lung. Curtis, the best wine on earth doesn’t hold a candle to the experiences I’ve had as of late.
“Are you okay, Aurora?” Jamie asks, watching me curiously.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat, patting my chest. “Excuse me.”
Jamie removes Curtis’s cape, and he gets to his feet. He’s shorter than I would’ve guessed, and thinner than I imagined. I might’ve been vaguely interested in him if I didn’t just leave the sexiest man alive.
I groan at the thought.
This is so unfair—to me and to every man I meet in the future. I can’t compare them all to Tate. He can’t be the bar by which other men are measured. No one stands a chance.
Settle down, Aurora. This is your newfound libido talking. Tate might be gorgeous, sexy, sweet, and an absolute legend in bed, but Lewis and Kent both seemed wonderful at first, too. Give it time.
I sigh. I’m either a sucker for punishment or a terrible judge of male character.
Come to think of it, I might be both.
“Here you go,” Curtis says, handing Jamie a few crisp bills. “Great work.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll call you in about six weeks,” he says.
“Sounds like a plan.”
He nods. But instead of leaving, he turns to me.
I have the sudden urge to run. It’s not out of fear—I could probably take ole Curtis with my shears if I had to. It’s more of a disinterest in conversing with him. I came to talk to Jamie about Tate, not chitchat with a self-described wine connoisseur.