Not Quite Perfect (Oakland Hills Book 3) by Gretchen Galway Read Free Book Online

hand.
    “That’s b—” She bit her lip. Calling the business consultant a liar while he was taking notes was a bad idea. She shouldn’t have gone out of her way to talk to this guy. She was only going to get herself and everyone else into trouble. “Beautiful. The pen. Can I see it?”
    The eyebrows arched again. He studied the pen for a moment and then offered it to her.
    It was a cheap travel-size ballpoint, red plastic with fake silver trim. She plucked it from his fingers and pretended to admire it. “Artists have an eye for good tools. This one has great, uh, proportions.”
    “I got it at the gas station near the airport.”
    She could tell by the tone in his voice that he knew she was full of shit. But he wasn’t the only one who could keep a straight face. Without breaking a sweat, she offered it back to him as if it were made of platinum, studded with diamonds, and filled with ink derived from the tears of baby angels. Baby kitten angels. “Don’t lose it,” she said gravely.
    “It’s yours,” he said, putting his hands—and the notebook—in his pocket. “I’ve got more of them.”
    “They sell cases of pens at the gas station?”
    “I picked up several so I wouldn’t run out.” He leaned against the doorframe as if he were getting comfortable, as if their conversation were just getting started. “How long have you been a freelancer here?”
    She’d been trying to decide how to deal with that question. Until recently, she’d never lied about anything—it was much more radical to tell the truth, and she always prided herself on being a rebel. “Honestly?” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “This is my first real… you know, paid… day here.”
    To her relief, he nodded in understanding. “Are there a lot of interns at Fite?”
    She had no idea. She shrugged.
    “Was it hard getting them to hire you?” he asked. The notebook was in his hand again.
    “Don’t blame them. Money’s tight.”
    “Especially when you’re just starting out, though, isn’t it?” he asked.
    “You mean me?”
    He nodded.
    This was more familiar ground. She knew she looked a lot younger than she was. “I’m twenty-seven. I started out a long time ago. Just not here.”
    The surprise on his face was the most emotion she’d seen him express yet. He ducked his head and twirled the pen—a different pen—in his fingers.
    She pressed her lips together. Even if she dressed like her mother, people would still think she was sixteen. “Is there anything else you want to ask? I need to get home.”
    “Go ahead,” he said, pushing away from the doorframe. “Thanks for coming by.”
    “No problem.” She moved her backpack to the other shoulder and turned, grateful once again to flee his company.
    “If   I need anything else,” he said to her back, “I’ll ask you tomorrow. I’ll be starting in your department first thing in the morning.”

Chapter 5

    T WENTY - SEVEN .
    Z ACK BRUSHED HIS teeth, staring at himself in the mirror over the sink in his rental condo’s bathroom. He spat and rinsed his mouth.
    Only five years younger than he was.
    He rubbed the deepening groove between his dark eyebrows, feeling ancient. His eyes looked like his dad’s, blue but gloomy, hidden under heavy lids. His jaw was like his dad’s, too, ready for a shave an hour after he’d used the razor. He loved his dad, but the old guy was pushing seventy. Should he look so much like him already?  
    Maybe his life after Meg’s death had gone by in dog years. No. Too old. He’d be dead, too.
    How could that combat-boot-wearing, energetic, rock star… girl … be his contemporary?
    He had to admit that he was even more attracted to her now, knowing her age, than before. It hadn’t been just the appeal of forbidden fruit, the hot young intern, an old man’s fantasy. He simply liked her. If it weren’t for his personal ethics about his work, he could ask her out. They might have sex.
    He could have sex .
    He splashed cold