Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 117740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Which was why I wanted to march on down to the cemetery and kick his headstone for not warning me about this potential development.
I bet he’d done it deliberately, the snide old git. He was probably up in the clouds right now with a whiskey in one hand, pointing at me as he laughed hysterically, just like that bloody Leo DiCaprio meme.
I sighed.
My time was up.
I had to leave now.
Ugh.
It was never comfortable to accidentally run into someone you’d slept with, but this wasn’t just going to be a nightmare.
Constantly having to face Oliver would probably breed a new sleep paralysis demon.
I grabbed my bag and hopped out of the van. It was fine. I could do this. I was a professional, and I was here in my capacity as chairman, thank you very much.
Did it really matter if I’d seen the man naked? Or that he’d seen me naked? Or that more than one part of his body had been inside me at one point?
No.
No, it did not.
Ha.
Ha…
All right.
It totally did. It mattered. It wasn’t as though I could walk in here and forget the time we’d spent together. I was only human, after all, and I was a thirsty one at that.
And boy, oh boy, Oliver de Havilland was a tall glass of ice water if ever there was one.
Shame he was a life-ruining bastard.
I got out of the van and walked up to the huge front doors. If I were the type to be intimidated by anything, these doors might just do it.
Fortunately, the only thing that’d ever intimidated me was my mother.
I rapped the brass knocker and pinged the doorbell a couple of times for good measure. There was always someone standing nearby to open the door, but that was my calling card, so all the household staff would know it was me.
You know, because the bright yellow van wasn’t enough of an announcement.
The hinges creaked as the door opened, and Bruce glared at me through the little gap. “State your name and business.”
“The Grim Reaper, here to haunt your master,” I replied. “I left my scythe in the van for security reasons.”
“I’m sorry, there’s nobody who goes by the name ‘Grim Reaper’ on the appointment list for today.”
I sniffed. “This isn’t very professional of you, old man. Don’t you know who I am?”
Bruce sighed and stepped back, pulling the door open properly. “Please come in, Miss Matthews. His Grace is waiting in his office for you.”
“That’s more like the treatment I expect. Good job, Bruce.”
“I get chills every time I have to be nice to you, child,” he replied dryly. “Follow me. I’ll take you there.”
“Why? I know where I’m going.”
He shook his head. “The duke has selected another room to use as his office for the time being. You’ve not been there before, so stop arguing and do as you’re told.”
I huffed as I trudged along after him, clutching my file to my chest. “Of course he has. I bet he’s chosen a room I’ve never been in just to throw me off kilter.”
“This may come as a grand surprise to you, Rose, but not everyone is out to get you.”
“Mm, I have years of school bullying that says otherwise.”
“Weren’t you the school bully?”
“If finishing fights makes me a bully, then sure.” I shrugged. “I never threw the first punch, though.”
My mother taught me many things, one of which being the words I’ve lived my life by until now: you don’t start fights, you finish them.
Now, did I have a history of provoking arseholes into throwing the first punch?
Maybe.
I’d never tell.
A girl had to keep some secrets.
It was a part of my feminine charms. Since I didn’t have many of those, I had to work hard on the limited few I was in possession of.
“I remember there being far more victims of your punches than you being punched,” Bruce said.
“That’s because my daddy taught me how to dodge and then break someone’s nose in one hit.” I grinned. “It’s not my fault if the other kids couldn’t hit hard.”
“You’re so hard to argue against. A trait from your mother.”
I fought back a laugh. He was indeed correct—my mother had the gift of being able to verbally demolish anyone who crossed her path. She’d really missed her calling as a politician, to be honest.
There was nobody who could bullshit quite like her.
A fact I knew because I was an adult who, sadly, had to pay attention to the self-serving pricks in politics every now and again. My mother put even those rats to shame, and that was truly saying something.
Bruce sighed and knocked on the door in front of us.
“Yes?” Oliver’s voice echoed from inside.
Bruce pushed the door open and poked his head through the gap. “Your Grace, I have Rose Matthews here for your meeting.”