Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“Yeah, it can be anywhere from a year to three.”
“Wow.” Disappointment wells in me and it sucks. Maybe it’s for the best because if there’s a waitlist, there’s no way I can afford this place. “Thanks for the information.” I wave my hand a little as I walk toward the elevator.
“I guess we’ll have to find somewhere else to live,” I tell Moose as I open the door to Devin’s. “At least I know you don’t need a yard since you hate the outside.” Moose pokes his head into Devin’s place tentatively at first, then he takes off running. The leash slips free of my hand and I chase after him down the hallway into the master suite.
“Moose!” I shout after him and then come to a sliding halt in the bedroom. Moose’s legs are sticking up in the air and his tongue is hanging out of his mouth as he lies in the center of the bed. “You have a dog bed,” I remind him. “A big nice one too.” He doesn't move. “You’re a brat.” He rolls back over, looking up at me, and I swear he’s smiling. “A cute brat but still a brat.”
I fall back onto the bed next to him and he places his head on my stomach. “Don’t get comfortable.”
I don’t know if I’m talking to Moose or myself.
Chapter Twelve
Erin
Moose lies on the sofa and watches me pace in the living room. It’s a little before noon and I’m still debating what I should do. Moose is having the time of his life like he was made to live like this.
“You think I should go?” I ask him, and he tilts his head to the side, making his ears flop. “You’re not being helpful.” He barks then lays his head back down. “So you think I should go.” I pick up the folders I found by the front door and wonder if Devin meant to take them with him but forgot.
“I should go. I can leave them at the front desk of his office. I’m sure there’s someone that works the front desk.”
I found one of his business cards and it had the address to his firm on it. I tried calling the number on the card, but it went straight to voicemail. That’s because he’s in a very important meeting and needs these files. This is the nice neighborly thing to do. Or crazy, but I push that thought down.
I drag my last bag into the master bedroom to find something to wear. I pull out my silver flats and then my favorite petal-pink dress. It’s finally warm enough that I can wear it, so I get dressed and brush my hair. I decide to put a little makeup on just in case I run into him when I’m dropping it off. I want to look nice because God knows he always does.
I grab my purse and the files and leave Moose snoring away on the sofa, oblivious to the fact that I’m leaving.
“You look nice.” I let out a small scream as I pull the key out of the door. “Grams, you scared the crap out of me.”
“I can see that.” She walks over toward me. “You sure you’re okay? You’re a little jumpy.”
I let out a breath and smile. “I think I am. I guess I’m a little on edge and didn’t realize it.”
“You’ll feel back to normal in a few days, I’m sure.” She kisses my cheek and then goes back to her place. “Where are you off to?” she asks, unlocking her door.
“Umm.” She turns back to look at me as she pushes her door open.
“Did you forget?” I hit the button on the elevator and it opens.
“Just running some errands.” I hop on to the elevator and push the button for the bottom floor.
“Forgetfulness happens when you're crushing after someone,” Grams throws out as the elevator doors close, making me laugh. I think she might be right.
Carol gets a cab for me and gives the driver Devin’s address. I think he knows whose it is because he tries to hide his knowing smirk. I hold the folders, wondering if this is a bad idea. Devin is going to think I’m a stalker, or he could think I’m super sweet and helpful.
The taxi rolls to a stop in front of a giant building, and I know Grams said he owns their building, but does he own this one too? Devin doesn't come off like some stuffy millionaire, but what do I know?
I step out of the cab, look up at the building, and decide he might be a billionaire. “Here goes nothing,” I mumble to myself as I make my way inside. Three security guards stand behind an expansive desk, watching me.
“Can we help you?” one asks.
“I’m looking for Devin?” It comes out like a question.