crazy about CEO cowboy

g so, I created an unfair image of myself. I starved, worked hard and was a completely unhappy person. Then I met Mal and I had to keep forcing myself to eat well, or not eat at all, to please my

uld probably take everything I had to give to even finish the race, let alone rock it. This was also why, when I saw the training camp just below, which takes place with two ex-military men helping to run it who were 'getting ready for the race', I signed up both myself and my best friend for it. However, she still doesn't know this fun fact. I have a plan to meet her after lunch to discuss this with her. However, she is applying for a job and is late. "Yes." I nodded. “I mentioned it to him.” I know what his next words will be without even thinking outside the box. He's so predictable. What he tells me confirms my guess about what will come out of his mouth moments later. “You know, right, that you’re not going to do well?” he asks bluntly. I want to punch him in the dick. “I signed up for a boot camp that will help me achieve my goal of finishing,” I say patiently, not wanting to create a scene. This is my favorite restaurant, and I want to be able to go back to this place after all is said and done with the man and the bitch standing in front of me. “Well, good luck with that,” Marjorie scoffs. “Me and Mal are working together this year. Can not wait." Wonderful. On one of the biggest days of my life, I would have to see them. Yay. "That's great." I take my chips and pop them in my mouth. “You won’t get anywhere eating like this.” He shakes his head. “I thought you told Dad you didn’t have any money. If you don’t have money, how exactly can you go out to eat and buy things like that?” Sigh. “I received a gift card.” By dad, of course, but it's a gift card nonetheless. He got one from his clients and then gave it to me because a little hole in the wall wasn't Malloy's cup of tea. Malloy's tastes were more refined... and they leaned toward two-hundred-dollar steaks and not ten-dollar hamburgers. “Show the checks” whispers Marjorie. She grits her teeth at his unpleasant voice. "Yes." He smiled. “She’ll really like them.”