Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Debra gawks at her, completely dead for the longest second.
Then she whirls on me.
“Office. Now.”
I incline my head to Elle and nod, urging her to follow my sister’s cutting steps.
Elle looks poleaxed.
“Am I in trouble?” she whispers.
“No,” I whisper back. “I probably am. Just stay out of the crossfire. We’ve been bickering since we were babies. Let me calm her down.”
If I survive.
Inside Debra’s office—open, airy, decorated in pale tones—she waits just long enough to slam the door behind us before she points at Elle like she’s brandishing a dagger.
“You. Sit.” She jabs her finger at the soft easy chair in one corner and turns that accusatory finger on me. “You. Explain.”
Apparently, whereas I don’t intimidate Elle, my sister does, because she obediently drops into the chair. She gives me a look, wide eyed like a little girl trying to take up space in an adult’s seat.
Sighing, I rake a hand through my hair.
It’s all I can do to avoid cursing a blue streak.
“It’s a ruse, Deb. Relax,” I grind out. “Social media already unearthed Elle’s identity. She’s just returned home to Seattle and needs a job. We need a reputation fixer. Her, for the sake of her career, and me for the sake of Little Key and Aunt Clara. We’ll be engaged for a few months, just enough to give things time to simmer down. Then we’ll break it off and go our separate ways. Eleanor is a children’s illustrator. She’ll be working here during that time. She might even be able to help Aunt Clara.”
Debra’s eyes narrow. She gives me a foul look, but instead of arguing, she just throws her hands up—which tells me something else is wrong.
Fuck.
“Whatever,” Deb says sharply. “Do what you want. I’m going to laugh when it blows up in your face. This is the dumbest thing ever, and frankly, I can’t believe your stick-in-the-mud ass thought of it.” She pivots back to Elle, flashing an almost patient smile. “Hi. I’m Debra, this idiot’s younger sister and current head of Little Key. I’m sorry. Seriously sorry my rockhead brother dragged you into this. When it does blow up in his face, I’ll take you out for drinks and let you vent the whole night, okay?” Her smile turns cutting. “And I’ll hold him down so you can punch him to your heart’s content.”
“Uh . . . thanks?” Elle lets out a shaky laugh.
I drag a hand over my face.
“You done shitting on me yet? What’s put you in such a mood?”
“Oh, now you ask?” Her smile looks ready to slit my throat. “Well, since you asked so nicely . . .” Deb stalks away, snatches up a manila envelope from her desk, then stomps back over and thrusts it at me so fast the papers inside rustle. “While you were out dicking around with your fake fiancée? We’ve officially been sued.”
VII
HALF AS BRIGHT
(ELLE)
I haven’t seen August for three days.
From the whirlwind way he swept me up shopping that first day, I thought the press conference was so urgent it would happen the day after at the latest.
But after his sister, Debra—a force of nature in her own right—slapped the lawsuit news on him, I didn’t even get the grand office tour he promised.
Instead, I got to see August Marshall in all his workaholic glory.
I thought he was sharp before.
But he was like a living weapon then, launching himself into reading all the papers Debra threw at him. On the phone, stealing his sister’s laptop to fire off emails like a human Gatling gun, barking sharp words with this fierceness that told me if his sister is a force of nature, this man is more.
August is an angry god.
It was all there. That intense energy I felt caged inside him, bursting to get out. Directed entirely at this new problem, this threat.
The tailored suits and creased slacks are a total front for a warrior general scowling with determination.
Somehow, the angrier and bossier he gets, the more raw emotion carves his face.
Handsome lines and power ripple like live currents in the tense lines of his body as he assesses, drives battle decisions in a split second, and gathers his assets to draw blood in the most lethal, efficient way possible.
A little awe inspiring, if I’m being honest.
It’s also made me realize just how little I’ll ever fit into his high-stakes world.
This sham engagement really is a side game to him, and I’m sure it’ll be the biggest relief when it’s over.
Heck, I don’t think he even noticed when I left, after Debra remembered I was there and apologized, smiled, and called Rick to drive me home.
I’m not a part of August’s real life.
I’m a freaking prop with some awesome benefits.
Even when I went off alone to get the dress adjusted, Angelique didn’t bat an eye over the fact that he wasn’t with me.