Wrong Number, Right Guy

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by Tara Wylde




  Wrong Number, Right Guy

  Tara Wylde

  Holly Hart

  Red Cape Romance

  Contents

  I. Wrong Number, Right Guy

  1. Ella

  2. Jason

  3. Ella

  4. Ella

  5. Ella

  6. Jason

  7. Ella

  8. Jason

  9. Ella

  10. Jason

  11. Ella

  12. Ella

  13. Jason

  14. Ella

  15. Ella

  16. Ella

  17. Ella

  18. Ella

  19. Ella

  20. Ella

  21. Ella

  22. Jason

  23. Jason

  24. Jason

  25. Jason

  26. Ella

  27. Ella

  28. Jason

  29. Ella

  30. Ella

  31. Jason

  32. Ella

  Epilogue

  II. Keeping Her

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Chapter 105

  Chapter 106

  Chapter 107

  Chapter 108

  Chapter 109

  Chapter 110

  Chapter 111

  Chapter 112

  Chapter 113

  Chapter 114

  Chapter 115

  116. EPILOGUE: SARA

  III. The Chase

  Chapter 117

  Chapter 118

  Chapter 119

  Chapter 120

  Chapter 121

  Chapter 122

  Chapter 123

  Chapter 124

  Chapter 125

  Chapter 126

  Chapter 127

  Chapter 128

  Chapter 129

  Chapter 130

  Chapter 131

  Chapter 132

  Chapter 133

  Chapter 134

  Chapter 135

  Chapter 136

  Chapter 137

  Chapter 138

  Chapter 139

  Chapter 140

  Chapter 141

  Chapter 142

  Chapter 143

  Chapter 144

  Chapter 145

  Chapter 146

  Chapter 147

  Chapter 148

  Chapter 149

  Chapter 150

  Chapter 151

  Chapter 152

  Chapter 153

  Chapter 154

  Chapter 155

  Chapter 156

  Chapter 157

  Chapter 158

  Chapter 159

  Chapter 160

  Chapter 161

  Chapter 162

  Chapter 163

  Chapter 164

  Chapter 165

  Chapter 166

  Chapter 167

  Chapter 168

  Chapter 169

  Chapter 170

  Chapter 171

  Chapter 172

  Chapter 173

  Chapter 174

  Chapter 175

  176. EPILOGUE: CASSIE

  IV. His Sword

  Chapter 177

  Chapter 178

  Chapter 179

  Chapter 180

  Chapter 181

  Chapter 182

  Chapter 183

  Chapter 184

  Chapter 185

  Chapter 186

  Chapter 187

  Chapter 188

  Chapter 189

  Chapter 190

  Chapter 191

  Chapter 192

  Chapter 193

  Chapter 194

  Chapter 195

  Chapter 196

  Chapter 197

  Chapter 198

  Chapter 199

  Chapter 200

  Chapter 201

  Chapter 202

  Chapter 203

  Chapter 204

  Chapter 205

  Chapter 206

  Chapter 207

  Chapter 208

  Chapter 209

  Chapter 210

  Chapter 211

  Chapter 212

  Chapter 213

  Chapter 214

  Chapter 215

  Chapter 216

  Chapter 217

  Chapter 218

  Chapter 219

  Chapter 220

  Chapter 221

  Chapter 222

  Chapter 223

  Chapter 224

  Chapter 225

  Chapter 226

  Chapter 227

  Chapter 228

  Chapter 229

  Chapter 230

  Chapter 231

  Chapter 232

  Chapter 233

  Chapter 234

  Chapter 235

  236. EPILOGUE: AMANDA

  V. Dare Me

  237. Lucas

  238. Lucas

  239. Alexis

  240. Lucas

  241. Alexis

  242. Lucas

  243. Alexis

  244. Lucas

  245. Lucas

  246. Alexis

  247. Lucas

  248. Lucas

  249. Alexis

  250. Alexis

  251. Alexis

  252. Alexis

  253. Alexis

  254. Lucas

  255. Lucas

  256. Alexis

  257. Lucas

  258. Alexis

  259. Alexis

  260. Alexis

  261. Alexis

  262. Lucas

  263. Alexis

  264. Alexis

  265. Alexis

  266. Lucas

  267. Alexis

  268. Alexis

  269. Alexis

  270. Alexis

  271. Lucas

  272. Lucas

  273.
Alexis

  274. Alexis

  275. Alexis

  276. Lucas

  277. Alexis

  278. Alexis

  279. Alexis

  280. Alexis

  Epilogue - Lucas

  Stay in touch!

  Part I

  Wrong Number, Right Guy

  1

  Ella

  I disconnect the phone and glance at the huge, cheap clock hanging above the door.

  The second hand wiggles, giving the impression that it’s stuck, then clicks over to the tiny dash between the eight and the nine. Another second of this shift gone. Only seven minutes and seventeen seconds to go.

  The second hand repeats its performance. Seven minutes and sixteen seconds.

  I can survive that long. I reach for my mouse, prepared to make one last call before finishing up for the day.

  “Ella!”

  My shift manager, Jerry Paolini’s smug face appears over the side of the thin cubicle walls.

  Ugh, Maybe I won’t survive after all. Every encounter I’ve ever had with Jerry has always taken way longer than it should, and left me feeling like I need to take a long, hot shower. Even when he doesn’t touch me, and he usually finds some reason to either lay a hand on my shoulder or “accidently” brush against me, it leaves me feeling dirty.

  I’d call him a weasel, but that’s not fair to the real members of the weasel family. I’m pretty sure they’d reject Jerry.

  Jerry bares his teeth in what he thinks is a charming smile, but which only draws attention to his sharp, weasel-like features. “You’re looking even prettier than you did when you got here this morning. What ya doing tonight?”

  I bend my own mouth into a small pseudo-smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes and reach deep inside myself for patience. I’m going to need it. The small headache that’s been pulsating on the edges of my consciousness for the last few hours ups the ante and stabs at my temples.

  “Book club,” I tell him. It’s not a complete lie.

  “Oh.” Jerry sucks his cheeks between his teeth and loses himself in deep thought. Well, Jerry’s version of deep thought, which isn’t very deep at all. Most of his thoughts revolve around how to get under the skirt of whichever girl has caught his eye. For the past few weeks, that’s been me.

  Just my luck. “What about after that? All that reading and talking about reading, it’s got to make you thirsty. Just thinking about it makes me want to grab a drink or two. What do ya say we get together at that brew house down the road? I’ll order a pizza and a couple pitchers of beers, and then you and I can—”

  “I’m hosting it,” I hastily interrupt, “which means I have to clean up, and since it goes quite late…” I let the thought trail off. There’s no way I’m mentioning the word ‘bed’ in Jerry’s presence. He’ll take it as an invitation.

  “And what about this weekend?”

  Jerry is a lousy manager. He’s always one inappropriate comment away from a sexual harassment lawsuit, but no one can say he’s not persistent.

  My mind races. “Um, I’m having dental surgery after work.” Okay, not the most original of excuses, but it’s been a long day. My brain simply doesn’t have the energy to be creative.

  “Really?” Jerry’s brow furrows. “This is the first I’ve heard of it. You didn’t ask for any time off?”

  He’s right. I didn’t. Mostly because I don’t have a dentist appointment, but even if I did, I can’t afford to take any time off. It’s not like this place offers paid sick leave. I have bills to pay.

  I shouldn’t have said that. Bill is a very bad word in my world.

  The pain in my head to explodes into a full-fledged migraine while bile churns in my stomach. This morning I’d woken to a reminder that another payment is nearly due. And payday is a few days away. And I’m not sure how far I can make that check stretch.

  “I booked the appointment for after work and I have the whole weekend to recover.”

  “I see. Well, maybe next week we can get our schedules coordinated.”

  Fat chance–but I’m not telling him that. “Maybe.”

  My eyes slide past Jerry’s head to the giant clock. Five more minutes, then I’m free.

  “Oh, by the way…”

  Uh oh. I know that tone. Jerry didn’t buy my excuses after all. He takes a piece of paper from the clipboard that’s permanently in his hands. He carries it around so that he can look busy on the rare occasions his own boss shows up.

  He dangles the paper in front of my eyes. “These numbers need to be contacted before the end of the day. I was going to ask Paula to do this, but she can’t stay late. You don’t mind taking them, right?”

  “But there’s, like, more than twenty names on there.”

  “I know. A few of the girls got behind on their calls.” Translation: the girls who weren’t constantly shooting him down had been flirting with him rather than making their calls. “And you’re so good.”

  “But I work first shift tomorrow morning! I have to be here a few minutes before eight, at the very latest.”

  It’s already six and it’ll take me a few hours to work my way through the names, meaning the soonest I’ll get out of here is nine.

  “Like I said, you’re good. Not only do you do the best job landing deals, but you’re also efficient.” He wiggles the list the same way a fisherman wiggles a hooked worm in front of a giant trout. “It probably won’t take you long. And you were just asking about extra hours. You might even make some extra sales and the commission would be all yours.”

  The memory of the call I got this morning and the size of the bill I need to pay down looms in my mind.

  “Fine,” I grab the paper out of his hand and smooth it on my cramped desk. “I’ll do it.”

  “Thanks, Ella. You’re the best.” Jerry disappears behind the far side of my cubicle wall. I hear him whistling a jaunty tune. Probably going to see if whichever girl was supposed to make all these calls will go out with him now that she doesn’t have to stay late in order to finish her work.

  I heave a sigh and settle my headset over my ears,adjusting my microphone before keying up the first number of the list.

  The sooner I get started on this batch, the sooner I’ll reach the last number, and the sooner I can go home.

  2

  Jason

  My nerves zing with unused energy as I prowl the lower level of my house. Just outside, the lights sparkle on the dark lake, but even though I worked my butt off putting myself in a position where I can enjoy a million-dollar view of Lake Michigan, I can’t relax enough to actually appreciate it. Sometimes I think that’s the problem: now that I’ve not only obtained my goal of financial success, but blown right past it, I don’t know what to do with myself.

 

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