Bossing Mr. Knightley by Ava Munroe EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Ava Munroe
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available for Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
“Tracy. Tray. Tray the Cray. Tray-Tray. Boo. Has anyone called you Boo
before? You look like one of those darling girls who would totally get with,
like, a massive, daunting guy who would call you his Boo. I met Danny Trejo
in person once, you know him? He’s got all those tattoos and that goatee to
kill but I swear to God, you get a few appletinis in him and he’s calling every
cute girl in the bar Boo like some kind of adorable sap. You would totally be
his Boo, Tracy. Can I call you Boo?”
Tracy the Barista blinks at me from behind her Coke-bottle glasses.
“So, your usual skinny vanilla latte, then?” She asks, using one finger to
push her frames up her hooked nose.
My love language is convincing staff to care for me. I will break Tracy.
So help me, we will bond.
I flash her my best smile, the one that made Chris Evans leave his secret
second girlfriend to go exclusive with me. The one that got me across the
North Korean border that time my journalist boyfriend got picked up. It’s a
killer smile, especially when paired with my top-notch banter.
I pluck a five out of my wallet and tuck it into Tracy’s tip jar. I lean over
the counter, propping myself up on my elbows to playfully rest my chin on
“A little seed money to get you to that model train convention in Atlanta
next month. Are you still looking into tickets? Love that you just do what you
want when you want to, Boo.”
I turn, blinking too much at the interruption. It wouldn’t be the first time
my relentless pursuit to win over Tracy the Unknowable Barista (or Andy the
Grump or Scott the Barely-Awake before that), has gotten me called out for
holding up the coffee line. Still, I usually get a few pointed coughs or
something before the first staff member is bold enough to ask the COO to
leave the counter and let someone else order coffee.
“Oh my God, Paisley!”
The executive assistant is standing just behind me, her hands tucked into
her front pockets as she digs the toe of one boxy black shoe into the linoleum.
I sling my arm through the crook of her elbow and heave her up to the
counter next to me.
“Another coffee for my girl Paisley here, Tray. On me.”
I look down at Paisley, positively beaming. I’m tall, definitely tall. I’m
5’11 on a really confident day, and I have a personal conviction that any heel
under two inches isn’t a real woman’s shoe at all. In contrast, Paisley
Peterson is short. I’m suddenly aware that my beaming down at her might
feel a little closer to lording over her. I clear my throat and slap the counter,
making Tracy the Barista blink three quick times in succession.
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