Read Online Going for Broke: Oakland Hills Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Friends with Benefits) by Gretchen Galway, Lucy Riot - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gretchen Galway, Lucy Riot
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composure, he reached for another slice of pizza. “If you’re worried about my heart health, you probably shouldn’t be bringing me my own extra-large pizzas.”
“It wasn’t all for you, but fine. Your gross table manners have totally ruined my appetite.”
Mouth full again, he asked, “What do I owe you?” and reached for his wallet.
“Thirty-five,” she said. “You can round it up to forty to thank me for my troubles.”
With a laugh, he gave her fifty. “Thanks, Lorna.”
“Whatever.” She walked out. A few moments later, he heard the front door of the office slam shut.
He wasn’t the only idiot still in the office on a Friday night, so he set the pizza down on the conference table, told his team to eat up and go home, and went out into the cold night.
His office was in a business park in Emeryville, crowded next to Oakland and Berkeley on the shore of the bay, across from San Francisco. Lorna had begged him to move the office to a building with a view, but he didn’t see the point if they were going to have shades over the windows, staring at screens all day.
And when he emerged from the office at the end of the day, it was usually dark anyway, like tonight. He walked two blocks, past a biotech firm, an Indian burrito joint, another tech company in a renovated Victorian, and then to his loft in a converted cannery.
But he didn’t go inside.
He wouldn’t be able to sleep, so why not get started working on the house tonight?
Chapter 13
I an told himself he could get started on the bathroom floor. He also told himself he had to confirm that the debris box had been emptied and the new storage unit delivered, although there was nothing he could do about it on a Friday night after business hours if they hadn’t been.
He had to see her.
For hours after The Incident, as he’d named it, he’d worked his ass off with Shawn and Marco, and barely spared Billie a word or a glance until he’d left with the other guys at the end of the day, and even then he’d only grunted a farewell.
They hadn’t spoken since. Avoiding her like this was only making things worse. And lying about the reason for his bad temper had made him angry with himself, although he didn’t know what excuse would’ve been better. Losing a fortune was a catastrophe that would credibly infuriate most men. But he wasn’t most men, and he was a little disappointed that she’d believed him so readily. Maybe she didn’t know him at all.
Maybe she should.
He parked his truck in front of the house next door and stared at the lights glowing from Billie’s windows. The shades were drawn, but he saw flickering shadows that suggested she was moving around inside the front room.
He had to clarify the situation, that’s all. They were old friends, he’d behaved badly last week but was fine now, she could trust him to act normally from now on. As soon as the clutter was out of the house, he’d tackle something simple but satisfying, like bathroom fixtures, or painting. Maybe install new lighting everywhere. He was itching to dive in and get busy.
And getting itchier by the moment.
He glanced at the dash. Almost ten o’clock. Too late to show up unannounced.
Too bad. After checking his reflection in the rearview mirror—he wouldn’t want to show up with tomato sauce on his face for anyone, it didn’t mean anything—he grabbed his backpack and went up to her front door. There he paused, realizing his heart was thudding against his ribs. He’d forgotten to confirm the debris box had been emptied.
As the door swung open, he suddenly remembered that not only should he avoid unnecessary alone time with Billie, he didn’t want to see Jane, either. He should’ve called—
“Hey, everything all right?” Billie wore a brown, fluffy robe that made her look like an Ewok. The fleece covered every inch of skin below her chin, and even her feet were cocooned in padded sheepskin boots.
“Did the furnace break?” he asked. “You
“It wasn’t all for you, but fine. Your gross table manners have totally ruined my appetite.”
Mouth full again, he asked, “What do I owe you?” and reached for his wallet.
“Thirty-five,” she said. “You can round it up to forty to thank me for my troubles.”
With a laugh, he gave her fifty. “Thanks, Lorna.”
“Whatever.” She walked out. A few moments later, he heard the front door of the office slam shut.
He wasn’t the only idiot still in the office on a Friday night, so he set the pizza down on the conference table, told his team to eat up and go home, and went out into the cold night.
His office was in a business park in Emeryville, crowded next to Oakland and Berkeley on the shore of the bay, across from San Francisco. Lorna had begged him to move the office to a building with a view, but he didn’t see the point if they were going to have shades over the windows, staring at screens all day.
And when he emerged from the office at the end of the day, it was usually dark anyway, like tonight. He walked two blocks, past a biotech firm, an Indian burrito joint, another tech company in a renovated Victorian, and then to his loft in a converted cannery.
But he didn’t go inside.
He wouldn’t be able to sleep, so why not get started working on the house tonight?
Chapter 13
I an told himself he could get started on the bathroom floor. He also told himself he had to confirm that the debris box had been emptied and the new storage unit delivered, although there was nothing he could do about it on a Friday night after business hours if they hadn’t been.
He had to see her.
For hours after The Incident, as he’d named it, he’d worked his ass off with Shawn and Marco, and barely spared Billie a word or a glance until he’d left with the other guys at the end of the day, and even then he’d only grunted a farewell.
They hadn’t spoken since. Avoiding her like this was only making things worse. And lying about the reason for his bad temper had made him angry with himself, although he didn’t know what excuse would’ve been better. Losing a fortune was a catastrophe that would credibly infuriate most men. But he wasn’t most men, and he was a little disappointed that she’d believed him so readily. Maybe she didn’t know him at all.
Maybe she should.
He parked his truck in front of the house next door and stared at the lights glowing from Billie’s windows. The shades were drawn, but he saw flickering shadows that suggested she was moving around inside the front room.
He had to clarify the situation, that’s all. They were old friends, he’d behaved badly last week but was fine now, she could trust him to act normally from now on. As soon as the clutter was out of the house, he’d tackle something simple but satisfying, like bathroom fixtures, or painting. Maybe install new lighting everywhere. He was itching to dive in and get busy.
And getting itchier by the moment.
He glanced at the dash. Almost ten o’clock. Too late to show up unannounced.
Too bad. After checking his reflection in the rearview mirror—he wouldn’t want to show up with tomato sauce on his face for anyone, it didn’t mean anything—he grabbed his backpack and went up to her front door. There he paused, realizing his heart was thudding against his ribs. He’d forgotten to confirm the debris box had been emptied.
As the door swung open, he suddenly remembered that not only should he avoid unnecessary alone time with Billie, he didn’t want to see Jane, either. He should’ve called—
“Hey, everything all right?” Billie wore a brown, fluffy robe that made her look like an Ewok. The fleece covered every inch of skin below her chin, and even her feet were cocooned in padded sheepskin boots.
“Did the furnace break?” he asked. “You
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