Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“I think we know each other.” She adjusted the enormous tortoiseshell-frame sunglasses perched atop her head as they attempted to slide off.
“I’m brand new to the city, so I’m sorry, I don’t think so.” But she did look like someone I had seen before. I couldn’t put my finger on where. “Do you ever get out to Los Angeles?”
“Not often. I do own a hotel out there, but it’s not like, a ritzy one.” She laughed and waved a hand, like it was a silly thing anyone could say. “Long story.”
But the more I looked at her, the more I was sure I knew who she was. “This is going to drive me bonkers. I swear we’ve met.”
“London?” she suggested doubtfully.
I shook my head.
“The Hamptons?” And then she shook her head, adding, “No, I know literally nobody out there.”
“I’m pretty sure we don’t run in the same circles,” I said apologetically. “Did you happen to attend a wedding a few months ago where someone was mauled by a bear?”
Then, her eyes went wide.
And I immediately knew who she was.
“Um…” Her cheeks flushed bright red. “I’m not supposed to say where I remember you from.”
“Me either.” Because I remembered her from being tied down to the chair at the roulette wheel at Ascend Red.
While her husband with the huge dick fucked me.
“This is…awkward.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. “I think I’ll—”
“You don’t have to,” she said quickly. “I mean, it’s not like we’re breaking the rules if we both happened to recognize each other.”
“Yeah, but…” I lowered my voice and glanced around us. “Your husband…fucked me.”
“Both of them did,” she corrected me, fully casual about having two of them. “We just got back into the whole swinging thing. El-Mudad—he’s one of my husbands—had some reservations about it for a while. That’s probably why we never met down there, before.”
“It was my first time there,” I explained, feeling a little dizzy. How many New York elite had I fucked? And would I run into all of them and have to have this kind of conversation?
“I’m Sophie.” She stuck her hand out. There were stacks of gold bangles around her wrists.
I shook her hand and introduced myself. “Charlotte. I’m Matt’s girlfriend.”
“Lucky you,” she said with a laugh. “You’re new in the city? Did you move in with him?”
“Not yet.” Yet? Was I actually considering it?
“Neil—that’s my other husband—says Matt’s apartment is incredible. I’ve never been there.” She rolled her eyes and made air quotes, saying, “‘boys’ night.’ At least, before the accident.”
“I’m sorry, how do you know Matt?” I had a good idea what she meant by ‘boys’ night,’ and I didn’t necessarily want to think about her husbands jacking off in my living room.
Matt’s living room.
I’d only been here a few days, and I was way too comfortable.
“He’s a big donor to my husband’s foundation.” She didn’t explain what the foundation was but barreled ahead to the important part. “We all hit it off. Like minds, and all that.”
“Right. Like minds.” I nodded in understanding. Sophie’s lifestyle wasn’t traditional, and Matt was open-minded enough that he could overlook stuff like that.
Plus, she didn’t seem snobby. That was probably a trait that was difficult to come by with Matt’s background.
And it might help me out now.
“I don’t want to interrupt your day, and if you’re in a big hurry, I totally get it,” I began to blather, “but… Do you think you could help me? Matt sent me here to buy stuff, but…”
She nodded as if listening to a story she’d heard a thousand times. “I knew I picked up the normal-person vibe.”
I tilted my head.
“I’m a normal person,” she explained. “Or, I was. I’ve been rich for like a decade, now. But I didn’t start out that way. Let me guess, he sent you out here with a credit card, thinking you’d stroll in and buy whatever you wanted?”
I almost fainted with relief. “Yes. And I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. We’re going to his mom’s house in Connecticut this weekend—”
“Old money?” she interrupted me.
I nodded frantically.
“Right. Well, I was coming here to meet my shopper. I think this is a clear sign that the universe put you in my path for a reason.” Then, as if we were old friends, she linked arms with me. “What’s the budget?”
I let her steer us toward an elevator. Having someone else’s help should have made this all less overwhelming, but she was so determined that I got twice as nervous. “I have to spend at least fifty thousand. It’s part of a game.”
She snorted. “Okay, at least fifty thousand? Then you’re going to spend a hundred thousand.”
My stomach roiled. “I don’t think I can do that.”
We stepped into the elevator, and she put her hands on both my shoulders, looking me directly in the eyes. “Trust me. He will be thrilled. There is very little that powerful, rich men like more than seeing women spend their money.”