Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
“How fucking dare you.” She strikes the left side of my face with a blow so hard I stumble backward.
“Do you know how many women would kill for the lifestyle you and I have?” She draws her hand back again.
I groan in pain, but she doesn’t retreat.
“Can you guess how many of them would be willing to die just to get a taste of what you and I have access to?”
She strikes my right side, and I cry out at the feeling of her rings scratching my skin.
“Millions, Scarlett,” she says. “And I’m one of them.”
My head is ringing and everything ahead of me is a blur.
I reach out with my left hand, bracing my body against the wall.
“If you want to frolic onstage like a homeless dreamer during your free time, be my guest,” she says. “But you’re not allowed to make decisions about the things that have already been decided on, and you know that. Don’t you?”
“Yes…” I’m in too much pain to nod. “I do know that.”
“Good,” she says, glancing at her nails. “Looks like I might’ve smudged a couple. Do you want to go with me to the spa before we hit The Hamptons?”
She doesn’t give me a chance to answer.
“We should,” she says, rummaging through her purse. “It’ll make you feel better.” She pulls out a pair of oversized sunglasses and slides them over my face.
“We’ll get you a few new pairs of those on the way as well.” She steps back. “Let’s go. The car is waiting.”
I wait for her to help me, but she doesn’t.
She didn’t last time either…
I lift my purse and step forward, biting my lip as my face throbs in pain.
Outside, Francis is holding the back door open.
My mother slides in first and pulls out her phone, quickly calling one of her friends as if nothing has happened.
“I tried to warn you,” Francis whispers.
As if he knows I can’t talk right now, he helps me into the car and buckles the seatbelt for me.
He presses something cold into my hand before shutting the door.
When he pulls onto the street, I don’t dare look at my reflection in the rearview mirror. The redness and swelling won’t heal anytime soon, and perhaps I need them as a reminder to stay in my place anyway.
RESCIND (V.):
TO CANCEL A CONTRACT, PUTTING THE PARTIES BACK TO THE POSITION AS IF THE CONTRACT HAD NOT EXISTED.
JAMESON
Peter Hansel’s Newest Legal Thriller Coming Soon
Peter Hansel Chats with Law Students About Ethics
How Peter Hansel Prepared for the Biggest Case of His Career
Iscroll through years’ worth of headlines as the town car driver coasts through The Hamptons.
Even though I know every word in these articles like the back of my hand, I can’t help reopening the wound.
Well, that, and I’m trying to distract myself from the ever-weaving web of Lucas’s cases. For every thread I seal, a new one unfurls with trickier (and guiltier) spirals than the one before.
It also pushes me farther away from Scarlett...
“Mr. Tate?” The driver’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts.
“Yes?”
“We’ve arrived, sir,” he says. “Would you like me to drop you off at the guest residence or the party entrance?”
“The party entrance,” I say.
“Very well, sir.” He pulls into the far right lane. “A bellman will retrieve your belongings from the trunk and place them in whatever guest room you were assigned by Mrs. Hunter.”
“Thank you.” I pull a few twenties from my wallet and hand them to him once he stops. “I’ll see myself out.”
I step out amidst a small crowd of guests dressed in pastels. There’s no doubt in my mind that most of these people have never worked a day in their lives, and the hardest part about being “them,” is deciding between hot yoga and Pilates for the afternoon.
If it weren’t for Lucas inviting me, I would’ve never come to a party like this.
At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
Walking up the steps, I step into a grand estate that’s drenched in white. Tuxedoed waiters weave through guests with trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres, while a singer in a bright blue suit croons Frank Sinatra with a piano across the room.
“So glad you made it here for the weekend, Mr. Tate.” “Me, too. It’s an honor seeing you.” Scarlett’s two oldest brothers approach me.
It always takes me a minute to determine which one is Ryan and which one is Antonio since they look like twins and they both annoy me in the same exact way.
“There are tons of hot women here and a lot more coming,” Antonio—I think, says. “I bet you could have any woman you wanted at tomorrow’s yacht send off.”
“I’ll probably be leaving tonight,” I say. “But I’ll be sure to tell your father I appreciate the invite.”
“Oh, come on!” Ryan pats my shoulder. “It’s practically free pussy, Mr. Tate. Surely you could use some after all the work we’re making you do. I know I’ll be taking advantage.”