Free Seventeen Days by D.B. James

to meet you too. Whatever Harrison is having is fine with me.” 
    “She’ll have a Coke,” I say immediately, before Justine can ask her for ID. Since I ordered a beer and she’s only eighteen.
    “Ouch. Why did you kick me, Red?” That fucking hurt.  
    “I can order for myself, thank you very much. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m all grown and can speak for myself. Since you’ve employed me, you should know.” Turning her eyes from me back to Justine, she adds in the sweetest voice I’ve heard from her yet, “But okay, yes, I’ll take a Coke. Since that’s what I assumed he ordered anyway. Thank you.” 
    How can I not want to pull her closer when she mouths off to me like that? I’m a goner. Never in my life have I wanted to be around a woman as feisty as she is. Normally, I push those type of people out of my life. 
    It’s got to be because I see her as independent even though she’s still finding herself. 
    “Woman, watch it or I’m going to spank you later.” Lifting one eyebrow at her, I give her the biggest grin I can. I’ve never been so bold in public. I’d also never spank her, unless she’s into that shit. I’ve only ever kissed her, and that’s all I plan on doing before she gets on a plane headed back to New York. 
    “You wouldn’t dare.” Only it’s not a question, it’s a statement. 
    Giving her another stare down to let her know I mean business—even if I don’t—she relents and slumps down in the booth. Guess I won this round. 

    He actually told me he’d spank me. What in the actual fuck? 
    This getting to know each other shit is turning out to be more than I bargained for. Maybe I should put a stop to this now. Neither one of us has invested too much. I have a feeling if we keep getting closer I’ll be going back to New York with a broken heart. Undoubtedly. 
    “Before you take a look at the menu, I’d like to give you the gift I have for you.” He pushes an envelope toward me on the table. It’s not like it has to go very far, he’s sitting right next to me. His sitting by my side is strangely intimate, yet comforting. 
    “What’s this?” He’s truly giving me a gift? I could’ve sworn he was pulling my leg about that. 
    “Open it and see. The contents may surprise you,” he says. 
    Why am I nervous to open an envelope? It’s probably my paycheck for the next few days. He seems like the kind of guy who's on top of things and he may want to pay me ahead of time. Who knows? 
    Opening it, I let out a gasp. A plane ticket? He got me a fucking plane ticket? 
    “I don’t understand. Is this my pay for the next two weeks? When did you buy me a plane ticket? And this is leaving exactly two weeks from today. Clue me in here.” Please.  
    “No, it’s not your pay. Consider it a gift, like I said. You mentioned a flight was the only reason you were taking the job from me, so I went ahead and purchased it for you. The money you earn on top of it will be yours to use once you’re back there. To help you get a head start on living your new life.” 
    Holy shit.  
    He bought me a plane ticket. He wants to pay me on top of it. He’s helping me to the first steps of my new start.
    Is he for real? I’m still in the dream I thought I was in yesterday. I’ve got to be. No one has ever given me anything without expecting something in return. 
    I’m speechless. Utterly speechless. And deeply touched.
    Unsure of what to say, I mumble out a lame, “Thanks.” 
    I can’t look him in the eye right now. 
    “Morgan, look at me,” he says while lifting my chin to bring my gaze up to meet his. His intense gray eyes meet mine, and I still don’t know what to say. 
    “Baby, it’s a gift. No strings. Purely accept it for what it is, and figure out what you want to eat. It doesn’t mean anything else but my wanting to help you. If you don’t want to use it in two weeks, we can change the date. Shit if you want to leave tomorrow, you probably could.