AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She nods, moving closer. "You're Gabriel Everhart, CEO of StoneTech and Male-Aura's most eligible bachelor of the year. Oh, my goodness. How nice to run into you."
Do they still include me in things like that? I wonder. I haven't read any magazines of late because of work. The only reason I had that party, the party Harper crashed, was because Veronica suggested it, and she wouldn't give in until I accepted.
"Can I take a selfie?"
Forcing myself to smile, I let her take the picture. But as soon as the phone camera leaves my face, I take off, leaving her behind.
My watch beeps again, reminding me that I have three minutes left.
I go over the list of essential tasks that I need to accomplish today.
"Meet with the legal director for environmental works," I say aloud but to myself, "Talk to the team in—"
My blood runs cold when I hear a loud bark behind me. When I turn around, I see a large dog running towards me, barking loudly.
My first thought is—
I hope there's someone ahead of me that the dog is going to meet.
But with every passing second, it becomes clearer that the dog isn't going to anyone else. It has its sights set on me, and if I am to take the barking as an indication, I'm about to get bitten.
My face!
My body.
I cannot let the dog get to me.
So, I turn around and do the next best thing.
Run.
But my legs suddenly decide they've grown tired of jogging, so they slow down. Until the distance between me and the dog is a short leap.
Just when I think the dog will get me, I hear a loud command.
"Bucky, sit!"
It sits. Immediately.
"Who was that?" I say aloud, and then she comes into view.
A woman in light gray outdoor gear running towards me. I stay in place purely out of curiosity, but I regret it when I see her face.
Quinn.
Harper Quinn.
And there is a mocking smile on her face.
Great. I meet her in my building. I see her at work. And now I have to see her when I go for a run?
"Bucky isn't going to bite you," she says, stopping behind her dog, "Don't tell me you're scared of a dog this small?"
My head snaps back, and my eyes widen at her statement. I stare at the Bucky in question and then at her so that she can see for herself the monstrosity between us.
"This?" I point to him, and the dog smiles. "This is small? What do you call a Chihuahua, then? A pocket dog?"
"He's small," she repeats adamantly and, to prove her point lifts all hundred and something pounds of shaggy fur.
