WIP: There’s a lil’ bit o’ B**** in River

FLAWED PERFECTION (SPRING 2014)

“Hey lady,” Andy greeted, his head in the arch of his oversized arms. I hadn’t thought it was possible for a human being to be bigger than Bobby, but Andy was definitely up for the challenge. His arm was the size of my waist. He had to be on roids. “You look great!”

“Thanks,” I muttered, cursing myself for putting on a tight t-shirt as he pulled me into a quick hug and left his arm around my shoulders as I shut the door and we walked to the stairs.

“I’m surprised this place doesn’t have an elevator,” he commented as we began to descend.

I waited the two seconds it took to reach the bottom of the first set of stairs and nodded directly in front of me to the big silver doors.

“We do.”

God. He. Is. Stupid.

He gave me a crooked grin. “I guess I was just so excited to see you that I rushed up the stairs instead.”

Gag me. I smiled.

“It looks like a few stairs wouldn’t hurt you,” I commented, nodding to his sculpted body.

“Yeah, it’s not like I don’t work out or anything,” he replied as he flexed his arm around my neck for effect.

I took the bait as we headed down the final flight of stairs, trying desperately not to act like a total bitch and shrug his arm off me. “How often do you work out?”

Andy scratched his head. I wondered what was so difficult about the question; maybe he was trying to figure out what would impress me. Cro-Magnon Adam’s voice echoed in my head.

“Cardio in the morning, weight lifting in the evening,” Andy answered with a big smile.

He thought it would impress me. The fact he used a word as big as evening was the real shocker. I stifled a bitchy giggle.

“Sounds like that takes up a lot of your time,” I responded as he held the door for me.

His face dropped as he considered what I said, before he perked up again.

“It’s worth it, don’t you think?”

His arm slipped around my waist this time, under the leather jacket and he looked down at me in mock shock. “You work out too!”

“What makes you say that?” I asked as I tried to retain the twitch in my face.

He squeezed my side with his oversized paddle-for-a-hand. “Tight abs.”

“Zumba five times a week. I give myself a break on the weekends,” I admitted as he pulled out the remote slash key to his car. I tried not to gawk at the circle with three slashes.

The lights on a white Mercedes up ahead flashed.

“You like it?” he inferred from my expression.

It wasn’t just any hunk of junk old Mercedes; it was a new CL- Class Coupe, all sleek lines and dollar symbols. I swallowed, stopping midstride as I stared at the shiny white exterior and already visible red leather.

“What the hell do you do for a living?” I managed.

“Eh, it’s not that pricey,” Andy commented, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

I turned to face him and crossed my arms.

“I’m a car girl,” I began as I tilted my chin over my shoulder; “You’re talking about a hundred twenty thousand dollars right there.”

COPYRIGHT 2013, CASSANDRA GIOVANNI

*Please note this is an unedited teaser, and thus may contain grammar and spelling inefficiencies.

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