Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“I’ll have avocado egg rolls and a strawberry lemonade.”
“And for you, sir?”
Wow. Rayne was upgraded to sir now. He almost wanted to lean over and kiss Chelsea on her cheek for stopping his torment. While he felt ridiculous at being called sir, he’d gladly take Dean’s professionalism over the flirting.
“I wasn’t finished.” Chelsea kept talking, her eyes hungrily scanning the menu. “And also let me get the fried chicken sliders and… hmmm. What’s your soup of the day?”
“Who in the hell is going to eat all of that food, Chels?” Rayne gaped at her.
“You think I got these hips and tits by eating salads?” she said with pride. “I think not.”
“Our soup of the day is…” Dean checked a piece of paper on his notepad, then answered, “Broccoli and cheddar.”
Chelsea cringed. “Oh no. I’ll have gas the rest of the day.”
Dean grimaced, and Rayne almost spit out his sip of water. Chelsea really had no filter and couldn’t care less what anyone thought of her. He couldn’t wait to get to that place himself. Minus the no-filter part. He wasn’t about to tell a complete stranger what food would move his guts.
“I thought you wanted a steak?” Rayne laughed, his chest feeling less restricted for the first time in weeks.
“He’s just taking our appetizer order, right?”
Chelsea wasn’t a skinny girl; she had a thick, gorgeous figure that he was sure attracted men and women alike. “Fine.” Rayne rolled his eyes. He was only ordering a salad and saving his few bucks. He’d just pick the hell out of her multitude of plates like she’d done his at the meeting. Rayne had never dined in a restaurant with a person he’d clicked with or had similar interests as him, where he was simply enjoying their company. He had no ulterior motives or tricks running through his mind. He just wanted to be around her. Like a friend.
Chapter Seven
Rayne
They had been sitting there for almost an hour, and Rayne had quickly deduced that Chelsea had ordered enough food for the both of them. She was eating but more like picking.
“I guess your eyes were bigger than your stomach,” Rayne said, biting into another avocado egg roll. Man, he missed eating out. It seemed like such a small thing when he’d been out there in the world; now he understood the luxury.
“I always order like this. It used to drive Frankie crazy.” Chelsea barely got the words past her quivering lips. “She called it wasteful and would always try to eat all the food I left on my multiple plates. I tried to explain to her that I did it for fun because I just love ordering.”
Rayne smiled. “I get that.” Once he’d gone to the Byrd & Baldwin Bros Steakhouse and dared his date to order him one of each of the four entrees. There had been no prices on the menu, and the CEO of Parker and Company hadn’t even blinked at the fourteen-hundred-dollar tab. Thinking about that night now, Rayne wondered if the Wagyu rib eye had been worth what he’d done to the executive in his hotel room that evening.
Had Rayne been nothing but a high-priced escort?
“Hey.” Chelsea tapped his knee again. “Come back to the present. I’m sorry I said that. I shouldn’t be reminiscing about the past either. My Frankie is gone, and she’s never coming back. Not after this…”
“I’m not gonna judge you either, Chels,” Rayne said in a gentle tone as tears built in her pretty green eyes.
Chelsea sniffled, then let go a whimpering laugh, waving off his concerned expression as if she was being silly. “I’m fine. You just reminded me of her when you mentioned all the plates.”
He didn’t need to ask her why she’d done it. Why she’d cheated on someone she loved so much. It was difficult to understand this addiction when the spectrum was so vast. He barely understood it. And it wasn’t his place to question her on it. Instead, Rayne began to eat a bit more food despite being full as they tried to clean the plates and not waste a drop, in honor of her Frankie.
After Chelsea finished her rib eye, she reclined in the booth and rubbed the small pudge above her belt buckle. “I’m gonna be working off this meal in the gym for the next two weeks. It’ll take me five minutes to get into my bridge pose.”
Rayne sat up taller. “You do yoga?”
Her smile was bright and real this time. “Yes. My counselor recommended it to me a while ago, but I never really got into it until Frankie left.”
Rayne understood. It was common to seek an outlet in the midst of pain. And yoga was a great way to manage stress. It was peaceful to exhale all the defiant feelings into the strong poses. By the time Rayne finished, he always felt calmer and more settled. He would love to go to a real class.