Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | Texting My Dad’s Best Friend |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Flora Ferrari |
| Language: | English |
| Book Information: | |
Damien Drake is the man of my dreams. Forty-one years old, mature and experienced, with silver-streaked hair, intense eyes, and a way of owning his six-foot-six muscular body that has me melting… It’s no wonder I’ve had a crush on him for so long. But I know nothing can ever happen. He’s my Dad’s best friend. They’ve known each other since they were kids. It’s good, then, that Damien’s working on his TV show in England. He’s a celebrity chef, wealthy and successful. But now he’s coming home. And Dad has given him my phone number. I’m a marketing intern, and Dad thinks I can help with Damien’s restaurant opening. The texts start innocently, and I think that’s it. He’s not going to pursue his best friend’s daughter. Even if that wasn’t an obstacle, I doubt he’d be interested. I’m half his age, on the curvy side, and the real kicker… I’m a virgin. | |
| Books by Author: | Flora Ferrari |
CHAPTER ONE
Damien
I push the bar and let out a long, controlled breath, feeling all my muscles pulse and ache as Max takes the bar from me and helps put it in the frame.
He grins down at me, his brown-silver hair is damp with sweat. He’s built muscular, like me, but he’s stockier, whereas I’m on the tall side.
Standing, I brush moisture from my forehead and grab my water, taking a long swig.
“This is the best way to welcome you back to the States, eh?” Max says, wiping his face down with a towel.
Our sets are over. All that’s left now is to cool down and then head home.
I nod, smiling.
Or smirking, as Max has often pointed out. He joked once that my face was incapable of properly smiling.
Looking at photos of me online and my reputation as a stern-faced celebrity chef, I can’t disagree.
“How does it feel?” Max goes on, putting his towel into his rucksack.
I look around at the mostly empty gym, thinking of the gym in England, and I can’t help but admit I feel more content here. There’s something special about coming home after ten years, about seeing the familiar streets, even a familiar face at the convenience store near my apartment. The same cashier who worked there when I left.
“It feels good,” I say after a pause as we make our way toward the exit.
“Are you excited to get to work?” he asks.
“Hell. Yes,” I chuckle as we push open the door into the late-afternoon sunlight, walking across the parking lot toward our cars. “There’s lots to do. It’s different from the reality-TV stuff, running a proper, functioning restaurant. It’s going to take a lot of work. But I’m ready.”
He nods as we come to a stop next to our cars. Max rests his forearms on the roof of his car, looking over at me with the smile I remember from when we were kids.
It has always been that way, Max being the one able to charm and use his charisma, whereas I’ve made my way by being stern and seemingly cold.
It’s just my public persona, I sometimes tell myself.
But I know there’s a kernel of darkness in me, which makes it difficult to be in relationships or form connections.
Of course, I’ve got friends and acquaintances, and I’m very close with Max.
But in terms of romance or a gut-deep passion...I’m beginning to realize that it isn’t for me.
“You’re scouting the spot tomorrow?” Max asks.
“Yeah. It looks like a good place. The rent’s going to be a killer, but that’s all right.”
“Just put your face on the flyers, and the place will be mobbed.”
“Thanks, Max. I hope so. I haven’t even thought about marketing. I need to hire all the right people, put a team together, and not just for the restaurant itself.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I need to hire a marketing manager. My minor celebrity will help, I know that. But I need somebody dedicated to really get the word out.”
Max chews the inside of his cheek. It’s a gesture I know well. He’s got something he wants to say, and he’s trying to figure out the best way to phrase it.
“What, Max?” I ask.
“Danielle,” he says.
His daughter?
I remember Danielle as a little kid preparing to get braces on her teeth. She was ten when I left, making her twenty now, and Max has told me through Skype that she’s started working at a marketing firm as an intern.
“You think she could help?” I ask.
“That’s the thing,” he sighs softly. “As part of her internship, they want her to try and secure a client of her own. It’s a test, I guess, but the competition is so tough, the market is so full….”
“She’s having trouble?”
He nods. “Yeah, it’s a dog-eat-dog world out there. But you need to think of your business.”
“Could she help?” I ask. “Honestly speaking. I’d love to help out your daughter, Max, but I need to know….”
“She’s great,” he cuts in. “She’s always researching marketing techniques. She even made a viral video for one of her work’s clients that got seven hundred and fifty thousand views in two days. She’s a hard worker too.”
I think about it for a moment. There’s some sense to the plan. Like everybody, Danielle needs a little help, a nudge to start her career. Or to help her career since she clearly has no problem getting it started herself.
“And just think,” Max grins ironically. “You can always fire her if she gives you any trouble. I promise I won’t take it personally.”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t need to fire her,” I chuckle. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you give her my cell number? She can send me over any ideas she has, and we can go from there.”
Max beams. “That sounds perfect to me. You won’t be disappointed. Yeah, I’ll talk to her when I get home.”