Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
“I don’t have a choice.” Her eyes meet mine, deep blue and solemn.
“Everyone has a choice. The truth is, he won’t even miss you.”
Her head snaps back like I’ve just slapped her across the chops with a wet kipper.
“What I mean is, he’s moved on. You should too.”
“I don’t give a fuck about him,” she says, her frown deepening. “Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t have to look me in the eye every day. In the office.”
“Well, sure, working together is a complication.”
“The complication is he’s my boss. At least he is since he dumped me for the CEO’s daughter.”
“Oh.”
“C.E. Oh . . .” She gives a deep shrug. “As an employee, I’m expected to go. As his ex, I damn well refuse to be a no-show.” She grabs the remains of the whiskey and drains what’s left, then sets the glass down with an air of finality.
Your funeral, I think to myself. There’s no helping some people. “It looks like you’ve made up your mind.”
“The day I got the invitation. And I knew I wouldn’t be going alone.”
She pierces me with a look that’s a mixture of desperation and determination. I somehow know what’s coming next.
“No.” My tone is firm as I hold up a finger like I’m talking to my niece. “That’s not happening.”
“But you could do it.” Her reflexes lightning quick, she grabs my wrist again. “You could totally do it!”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
“It is. Plus, you’re here and you’re available!”
“I’m not a taxi,” I say, peeling away her hand. “And this is not happening.”
“I’ll pay you!”
“You couldn’t pay me enough,” I retort gruffly, patting the back of her hand to lessen the sting. There’s no way I’m doing two weddings in one day. Not as a favor and definitely not as a paid date, no matter what Fin would do.
“I wasn’t being cheap when I didn’t hire a professional. I can afford to pay you well—really well.”
Not as well as I’m usually paid, not that it matters. Fin might be right; I might be nice. But I’m not that nice. Or that fucking stupid.
“Please.”
I find my hands in hers suddenly, her head bowed and a subtle floral scent rising between us. The pendant light overhead turns her hair shades of sable, copper, and mahogany. I curl the fingers of my right hand against the insane notion of running them through the silky strands.
“Looks like you’ve had a manicure.” Her thumb slides over my thumbnail, my skin like fire reacting to the brush of her touch.
“It’s not a crime to take care of yourself,” I say gruffly. The hairs on my wrist stand like pins, but I know her game. I know exactly what she’s doing.
“So you do okay for yourself. That doesn’t mean you couldn’t do with more money. Everyone likes money.”
I’ve got more money than I could spend in a lifetime, but I’m not in the habit of telling people my business. I learned that lesson shortly after I made my first million, because next thing you know, they’re googling your name, discovering your net worth, and eyeing you like you could be their new best friend. Or their next ex-husband.
“Maybe there’s something else you want.” She leans in, the action not at all accidental. Cleavage for days.
I cock a brow at the suggestion in her tone and spread my fingers wide on my thigh.
“No, I suppose not.” Her tone dips, her shoulders with it. “Not that I was offering, exactly.”
“Offering what, exactly?”
“Not offering.” Her cheeks flush pink.
“Give it up, love. I’ve been to one too many exes’ weddings today.” Reinforcing my point, I flick my lapel. Check out the tux. Savile Row, not Abe’s Formal Wear.
“Your ex?” Her expression flickers before she sits up straight. “But . . . but then you know.”
“I know I’m not going to another one.”
“Please, I’m desperate. You’re exactly the type of man I should’ve hired. Compassionate and understanding—”
“And not the type you rent out for a few hours.” I put my glass to my lips once more. She doesn’t seem unstable, though I’m beginning to wonder if her ears are painted on under all that hair, because her listening skills leave a lot to be desired. “Regardless of what I do or don’t do for a living, there’s no way I’m suffering through two weddings in one day.”
“Please? I’ll return the favor—I’ll come to your next one!”
Laughter bursts out of me. “Sounds like you’ve heard about me.”
“You kind of have heartbreaker written all over you,” she says, her voice lowered seductively.
“Insults one minute, flattery one minute.” I give a mocking shake of my head as I ignore the stirring between my legs. “I’m just gonna finish my pint and be on my way.”
Her eyes turn almost instantly glossy again. “I guess I can kiss my career goodbye,” she whispers, putting her fingers to her trembling lips.