So… remember how just a few days ago I went a bit crazy for a rom-com called The Plan? It actually set me on an urge to read more like it. Steeeeeamy office romance, an unapproachable hot boss, and internal thoughts and dialogue SO funny, that I laughed out loud for pretty much… hours as I read it. This book is awesome! In fact, a few of us have been having a hard time moving on to other reads.
But guess what I have?! The author just sent over an awesome POV scene that lets us into his head for just a few moments. And the ending of it had me grinning like mad.
Ready? Don’t read this if you haven’t read the actual book, yet. One of my favorite books this year! Instead, read my review of The Plan, and then read the book, and THEN this POV scene. 😉
The Bane of My Existence
(The Plan – outtake)
Test of Endurance – Day 2.2
She is sitting right beside me.
This woman. This…woe of man.
This man, anyway.
Not back in the office pool. Not safely tucked away among the steno or admin or whatever is the du jour PC term for PAs. Not on the other side of my door. Not scurrying about the break room, casting side glances and almost-but-not-quite looking away before I spy her spying on me.
And I do spy her spying.
She is right beside me on this airplane seat for the next few hours and just as irritatingly, distractingly, unpredictably, infuriatingly…pretty.
Which truly should not be at issue as I cannot recall being bother by merely “pretty” girls. What has she accomplished? My attractions and pursuits need to be firmly centered, as ever, within the realm of accomplished females. Educated. Established. Exquisite.
Not simple…simply pretty.
What am I to do with someone like this tiny creature who works a barely above entry-level job? Who must have given up on the college in which she recently enrolled since she has nothing preventing her from taking this personal assistant position at a moment’s notice? Who appears to have wielded a flat iron for the first time this week?
Let it be noted: I deduct a modicum of self respect for noting Emma Baker’s hair and the care and maintenance thereof.
I imagine the feel of it wrapped around my fingers…
Damn it. Damn it all.
Focus. The forecast for this industry sector is promising and incorporating manufacturing in-house…
My hands still sting. The warmth of her waist as I caught her, caught myself from wrapping around her. Smooth skin. Some unknown scent that still teases me.
A full scale production line of enhanced SPF offerings coupled with bio-degradable packaging…
Her seat shifts as she rifles through her carry-on bag that is roughly the size of a Buick. My accursed eyes drift to the sliver of skin that I touched a short while ago.
She shifts again, fidgets with the pair of shoes she’s wearing.
Profit margins on liquids between fifteen to twent-
Her finger slips absently between heel and arch.
Recyclable, er, reclaimed… reclaimed pack-
Smoothes hosiery from knee to calf.
Market reports…market reports…reports…want her knees on my shoulders…her shoes banging against my face like earrings…
I ponder the potential TSA reaction to a primal roar at 30,000 feet and vow to burn her shoe collection.
“Very well,” she says and slips her notes into the aforementioned Buick.
A shift in the cabin pressure and my ears clog. Her voice sounds like she’s standing giant in a glass of water.
“Very well, Sir.”
This is acutely painful. Forget earrings. Ear amputation seems in order. I press my fingers strategically and sincerely wish I’d thought to bring a stick of –
She smiles (not convincingly) at me with a piece of wintergreen gum in her outstretched palm.
I am at a loss.
A capable assistant.
Long have I considered that an oxymoron.
Now, maybe I can focus on negotiation strategies.
Foreign market testing can be delayed until 2nd quarter. Print adverts in pre-launch across 17-35 female market readers. Online as early as-
The flavor has not even begun to fade when she nudges my arm with a book. “Have you had a chance to read this?”
Before me, she offers a copy of the new book by my favorite author. The book that I pre-ordered on the day it was announced. The book that was delivered yesterday. The book that I intentionally, and with a level of well-practiced restraint in which I can admit I take great pride, forced myself to leave on my nightstand at home so that I would not be distracted.
Custom-made, folks. She was designed in the mold to sabotage my productivity.
Oooooh that was perfect!!!