frantically typing again. Nonsense on the page just to make him think her mind wasn’t on him.
“Says the girl who threatens to withhold meals if I don’t sing her a song?” he teased.
“That’s the one.”
She headed for Facebook, and began scrolling down her Newsfeed, stopping at a video that looked familiar…
The video began to play. Donovan. At the bar from the other night. “Someone videoed you at the bar.” She glanced at the views. Five digits. Already. She hit share before Donovan could tell her no.
“How’d you figure that out?” he asked.
Sierra turned her computer around. “Twenty-five thousand hits, Van. In just a few days. This is big.”
He sat up and walked over. “Who the hell even did this?”
She shrugged. “I can find out if you like…” But before he could give an answer she followed the link to Facebook to check if it was a re-post on there or an original upload.
“You know a Mike Williams?” she asked.
“Bastard,” Donovan mumbled. “I can’t believe he did that.”
“Well, I’m sharing the crap out of this because it’s awesome. Maybe you’ll play more.” She smiled as she looked up at him, loving that she got to see him lazy in the morning while wearing his pajamas.
“This morning is the one morning I get off for two weeks. I’m about to hire two new people, and the training is always a bitch. Alyson doesn’t have the patience for it.” He pushed a hand over his head. Sierra would have given anything to know what he was thinking about. “There’s no time to play more.”
Donovan stretched his strong arms above his head, lengthening the torso she really wanted to wrap her arms around, once again exposing the perfect strip of skin just above his pajama pants.
Damn.
“Um…” She coughed. “So it’s cool if my group from Marketing meets up near closing time at the store?”
He nodded. “Sounds fine. I’m gonna shower. Pretend Mike’s not an asshole. And I’ll make sure I stick around there until you guys show up. Sound good?”
“Thanks, Van.” In ways he’d always been nicer to her than her brother. And speaking of brother, she should probably figure out when he was due back—if there was a way to get a hold of him. She also was determined to find a way to encourage Van to play more.
Sierra hit publish on her popcorn post and started in on emails as Donovan took his shower. Naked. With hot water. And soap.
She had to bake something.
All Donovan could think about was how close to thirty thousand people had watched his random open mic at the local bar. What did that mean? Had he chosen wrong in doing the store with Hanson? It felt so much safer at the time. Still did…for the most part.
He tapped his fingers on his desk, his thoughts spinning.
Sierra was going to come near the end of the workday. Every knock on his office door made him jump half out of his skin. Every stupid text from Chuck asking if he’d found a way to nail her yet, ground his teeth together. And he still didn’t know how to approach Mike for posting the video, but Mike was in business just like Donovan was in business. If he thought Donovan would bring in more people… It’s not like Donovan signed anything, or Mike had signed anything to say that Donovan wouldn’t be recorded.
Nothing from Hanson, and he started about ten emails to Clark before giving up on finding anything to say to him. He missed talking to his surrogate dad, but he had no idea what would come out of his mouth when Clark asked about his daughter.
He was short with customers. Short with employees. He felt too young to be doing an old man’s job, so he hid in the back room and tried to sort stock, but Sierra had taken care of so much, there wasn’t a lot to do.
Five trips to his favorite coffee shop, and about a million email checks later, he gave up. He finally had to admit that he was anxious about Sierra coming in with her group, and it was stupid, but there it was.
“It’s dead
“Says the girl who threatens to withhold meals if I don’t sing her a song?” he teased.
“That’s the one.”
She headed for Facebook, and began scrolling down her Newsfeed, stopping at a video that looked familiar…
The video began to play. Donovan. At the bar from the other night. “Someone videoed you at the bar.” She glanced at the views. Five digits. Already. She hit share before Donovan could tell her no.
“How’d you figure that out?” he asked.
Sierra turned her computer around. “Twenty-five thousand hits, Van. In just a few days. This is big.”
He sat up and walked over. “Who the hell even did this?”
She shrugged. “I can find out if you like…” But before he could give an answer she followed the link to Facebook to check if it was a re-post on there or an original upload.
“You know a Mike Williams?” she asked.
“Bastard,” Donovan mumbled. “I can’t believe he did that.”
“Well, I’m sharing the crap out of this because it’s awesome. Maybe you’ll play more.” She smiled as she looked up at him, loving that she got to see him lazy in the morning while wearing his pajamas.
“This morning is the one morning I get off for two weeks. I’m about to hire two new people, and the training is always a bitch. Alyson doesn’t have the patience for it.” He pushed a hand over his head. Sierra would have given anything to know what he was thinking about. “There’s no time to play more.”
Donovan stretched his strong arms above his head, lengthening the torso she really wanted to wrap her arms around, once again exposing the perfect strip of skin just above his pajama pants.
Damn.
“Um…” She coughed. “So it’s cool if my group from Marketing meets up near closing time at the store?”
He nodded. “Sounds fine. I’m gonna shower. Pretend Mike’s not an asshole. And I’ll make sure I stick around there until you guys show up. Sound good?”
“Thanks, Van.” In ways he’d always been nicer to her than her brother. And speaking of brother, she should probably figure out when he was due back—if there was a way to get a hold of him. She also was determined to find a way to encourage Van to play more.
Sierra hit publish on her popcorn post and started in on emails as Donovan took his shower. Naked. With hot water. And soap.
She had to bake something.
All Donovan could think about was how close to thirty thousand people had watched his random open mic at the local bar. What did that mean? Had he chosen wrong in doing the store with Hanson? It felt so much safer at the time. Still did…for the most part.
He tapped his fingers on his desk, his thoughts spinning.
Sierra was going to come near the end of the workday. Every knock on his office door made him jump half out of his skin. Every stupid text from Chuck asking if he’d found a way to nail her yet, ground his teeth together. And he still didn’t know how to approach Mike for posting the video, but Mike was in business just like Donovan was in business. If he thought Donovan would bring in more people… It’s not like Donovan signed anything, or Mike had signed anything to say that Donovan wouldn’t be recorded.
Nothing from Hanson, and he started about ten emails to Clark before giving up on finding anything to say to him. He missed talking to his surrogate dad, but he had no idea what would come out of his mouth when Clark asked about his daughter.
He was short with customers. Short with employees. He felt too young to be doing an old man’s job, so he hid in the back room and tried to sort stock, but Sierra had taken care of so much, there wasn’t a lot to do.
Five trips to his favorite coffee shop, and about a million email checks later, he gave up. He finally had to admit that he was anxious about Sierra coming in with her group, and it was stupid, but there it was.
“It’s dead
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