Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Whatever you say. By the way, this came for you earlier. I had to sign for it.” He tosses an envelope onto the cushion next to me.
“Thanks.”
I tear open the envelope, wondering what’s so important that it required a signature. In the upper left corner, it lists a name and address of a business that I don’t recognize.
To Whom It May Concern:
I am writing this letter to declare my interest in buying your property in River’s Edge, California. I’ve attached my business plan along with an offer. I’m willing to work with your attorney or handle this personally, whichever you’re more comfortable with. Please contact me with any questions you may have.
I crumple the papers up and toss them into the trash can next to my desk without even looking at his offer. It’s not the first time someone has tried to buy Bad Intentions. We’re in a prime location, right smack in the middle of what I like to refer to as the tourist trap of River’s Edge. It’s the first thing everyone sees coming into town, right next to the bars and casinos. Too bad I have exactly zero interest in selling. This place means more to me than anything or anyone ever has. You can’t put a price tag on that.
“What was that about?”
“Someone wants to buy the shop.”
Cordell snorts out a laugh, knowing I’d sooner chop off my own dick than sell. “I’m going to clean up my station, then grab a beer with Cam. You in?”
“Nah, I’m good.” I stand, making my way to my desk to bury myself in a sketch, mostly so I don’t have to see the disappointed look I know will be on his face. Cam’s usually too busy to go out between his snowboarding career and his new role as a family man, so I should stop being an asshole and just go, but I’m not in the mood.
“All right, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Alec isn’t too far behind Cord, and soon I have the shop to myself. I’m almost back to the drawing room when I hear it. A muffled ringtone coming from the front of the shop.
Someone must’ve forgotten their phone.
The ringing stops, only to start right back up again. I figure whoever is calling is looking for their phone, so reluctantly I make my way back up front, following the sound. I find it in one of the drawers of the front desk, so it must be Logan’s.
“Hello?”
“Who the fuck is this?” It’s a man’s voice. A very angry man’s voice. Does she have a boyfriend? Seems like that should’ve come up…ideally, before we hooked up.
“Who’s this?” I throw the question back at him.
“Where’s Logan?”
“Busy.” Some instinct tells me not to tell this guy a damn thing. He’s quiet for a minute before responding.
“Be sure to let her know she’s only making things worse by avoiding me.”
He hangs up, and I’m left wondering who this douche is to Logan. She doesn’t seem like the type of person to put up with any shit, so what the fuck is he doing in her life?
“Rise and shine, princess.”
I hear her voice, and at first, I think it’s a dream. But the kink I feel in my neck tells me I passed out on the couch in the drawing room. Again. Without locking up, apparently. I lift my head off the arm of the couch and rub the back of my neck before peeling my eyes open. I squint up at Logan, who is standing in front of me, amused expression plastered to her pretty face.
“What time is it?” I ask, stretching my neck from side to side. Tattooing people today is going to fucking suck after sleeping in that position all night. I’ve been known to crash here occasionally, especially since Adrian seems to have taken up permanent residence in my house, but I usually have enough sense to fall asleep in a slightly more comfortable position.
“I don’t know. I think I left my phone here last night, but I’m guessing it’s right after ten.”
I stand, moving past her to my desk, grabbing her phone. “You did.”
She looks nervous, worrying that plump bottom lip between her teeth. She snatches the phone out of my hand and stuffs it into her back pocket.
“What?” she asks defensively when she realizes I’m staring.
“You got a call.”
Blush crawls up her neck, and her nostrils flare. “You answered my phone?” Her voice is incredulous.
“Calm down, Sally. I didn’t know whose phone it was, and it wouldn’t shut up. Thought maybe someone was looking for it.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Stop calling me that. Who called?” she asks, scrolling through her phone.
“He didn’t say, but he wasn’t happy that I answered.”
“Goddammit.”
“Who was it?” Her reaction tells me I’m right to be wary of this guy. Not that it’s my business, but somehow, it feels like it is.