Author: | Jessica G.Rabbit | ISBN: | 9781310695414 |
Publisher: | Jessica G.Rabbit | Publication: | February 2, 2016 |
Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
Author: | Jessica G.Rabbit |
ISBN: | 9781310695414 |
Publisher: | Jessica G.Rabbit |
Publication: | February 2, 2016 |
Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
Language: | English |
Heath stared blankly at the half filled glass of scotch he held in his hand. He was sitting on the company jet flying back from China. He had just closed one of the most integral shipping contracts in his career, but he was not happy. He felt uneasy. Uneasy at the thought of having to go back home to those gold-digging, high-priced courtesans he had waited for him. He emptied the contents of the glass in one gulp and swallowed the liquid. It no longer burned and he could now taste the musky sweetness of the scotch. He was drunk. He rarely drank to excess, but the thought of him having one more day of those interviews would drive him to madness, and then there was his new temp, Agatha.
Marilyn had waited until after she was certain he had closed his deal in China before calling him and giving him an ear full about how rude and inconsiderate he was to Agatha. Hell, he had mistaken her for his waitress for God's sake. He hadn't given it much thought, but the way Marilyn made it sound he felt down right low. He had made an assumption based solely on her looks. He had thought Marilyn chose Agatha for the position because she was not his typical bombshell type, and, therefore, giving him no work distractions. That was shortly lived however when Marilyn explained that she felt Agatha could keep up with his hectic schedule. He recalled pushing past her and those blue eyes of hers looking through him as he had assisted her with the mess she had made in the middle of his office waiting room. He then flashed back to when they both were underneath the table at the cafe, and for one brief second he caught a glimpse of her without those humongous glasses on. She was classically beautiful, and he found himself wondering what she looked like underneath those layers and layers of clothes. He shook his head as if that would help him stop thinking about her. It only assisted in making the jet spin. He reclined his seat back and pinched the bridge of his nose. Finding a bride was harder than he thought and so was getting Agatha, the poorly dressed, comely lady off of his mind...
Heath stared blankly at the half filled glass of scotch he held in his hand. He was sitting on the company jet flying back from China. He had just closed one of the most integral shipping contracts in his career, but he was not happy. He felt uneasy. Uneasy at the thought of having to go back home to those gold-digging, high-priced courtesans he had waited for him. He emptied the contents of the glass in one gulp and swallowed the liquid. It no longer burned and he could now taste the musky sweetness of the scotch. He was drunk. He rarely drank to excess, but the thought of him having one more day of those interviews would drive him to madness, and then there was his new temp, Agatha.
Marilyn had waited until after she was certain he had closed his deal in China before calling him and giving him an ear full about how rude and inconsiderate he was to Agatha. Hell, he had mistaken her for his waitress for God's sake. He hadn't given it much thought, but the way Marilyn made it sound he felt down right low. He had made an assumption based solely on her looks. He had thought Marilyn chose Agatha for the position because she was not his typical bombshell type, and, therefore, giving him no work distractions. That was shortly lived however when Marilyn explained that she felt Agatha could keep up with his hectic schedule. He recalled pushing past her and those blue eyes of hers looking through him as he had assisted her with the mess she had made in the middle of his office waiting room. He then flashed back to when they both were underneath the table at the cafe, and for one brief second he caught a glimpse of her without those humongous glasses on. She was classically beautiful, and he found himself wondering what she looked like underneath those layers and layers of clothes. He shook his head as if that would help him stop thinking about her. It only assisted in making the jet spin. He reclined his seat back and pinched the bridge of his nose. Finding a bride was harder than he thought and so was getting Agatha, the poorly dressed, comely lady off of his mind...