Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“You too. Maybe we’ll see each other again. Oh, and thanks for the drinks.”
I held the hug. Made sure the knife was firmly in her back, then let go. Smiled regretfully, then made my way through the thickening crowd. Winked at Marcus over the space. Go get her.
He would succeed. She was drunk. Prepped. He was charming and sexy and—as far as she knew—a doctor with the sex skills of a porn star. I nodded to another member of this team, a man whose Google glass, in combination with my condo’s security cams, would properly document the entire evening.
I exited the bar and headed for my car, a genuine smile lighting up my face.
Maybe she loved Lee. Maybe he loved her. But he was mine, whether he knew it or not.
Chapter 31
I was ready for the call when it came. Feet cocooned in a moisture wrap, propped on my coffee table, a Hulu-binge in full effect, my phone rang. I glanced at the clock, and answered Marcus’s call. “Give me good news.”
“She didn’t do it.” He sounded defeated, as if he had lost a million dollar sports bet. Given that I had promised him a ten thousand dollar bonus for closing the deal, I understood the attitude.
“What?” I sat forward, my feet coming off the table. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. She just didn’t. I didn’t push it, stopped when she said no.”
I realized my mouth was open and shut it before I lost all composure. “How far did you get?”
“She came back to the condo. We kissed… her shirt came off. Not much else.”
“I thought your skills were better than that.”
“You should have tested them out.” The playful lilt of his sentence pushed me over the edge of poise.
“Fuck you, Marcus. It’s ridiculous you couldn’t close a teenage girl.”
“She’s committed. She started crying, saying she was making a mistake. What was I supposed to do, unzip and pull my cock out?”
“Whatever. Let me know if she calls you. I’m gonna check the camera footage. I’m sticking to the original plan, unless the footage is useless. So, unless I say otherwise, carry on.”
“Will do.” He paused. “Either this guy’s one in a million or you’re a psychotic bitch.”
I smile. “Or both.”
“Yeah. Or both.” There was a pause where we didn’t know what to say. Then, “Night.”
“Night.”
I logged into the security program of my downtown condo, a three thousand square foot palace I rarely set foot into. Started the download of the evening’s files while I called Don, the PI who had trailed the couple all evening.
He answered with a yawn. “I’m downloading the images now.”
“Got anything good?”
“A few you’ll like. I’ll email them to you within the hour.”
“The sooner the better.”
I ended the call, clicked on the downloaded security cam file, and sat down to watch Marcus’s failure.
He had tried, that was for sure. Done everything right. Hadn’t chased, had let her come to him. Been aloof, yet sexual. Hadn’t bragged about the condo, let her ooh and ahh over the place. When she had crawled onto his lap he had fisted her hair in his hands, ground her hips into him enough to let her see his arousal and show her his equipment. They had kissed… she had wanted… they had been close. I could see the moment he lost. The moment her brain and guilt had kicked into action. The pull away, the shaking head, a hand pushing against his chest. Then, her movement into a chair. Crying. Hugging her body and rocking and all sorts of ohmygodwhathaveIdone drama. Marcus had stood awkwardly, at one point glancing toward a ceiling cam with a grimace. Then he sat next to her. Pulled her into his arms and smoothed the top of her hair. Let her cry into his chest until she calmed.
Ugh. Why couldn’t she have been a normal twenty-one-year-old drunk girl who succumbed to the sexy doctor with the big cock and fancy home? She was dating a yard boy for heaven’s sake, one who was flighty and irresponsible and MIA half the time. This should have been easy; I should have won. Good thing I didn’t need her mistake. I only needed the illusion of one.
I restarted the footage and watched again, taking screenshots of the moments that mattered. Then, I reviewed them all, confidence feeding through me. Yes. I had enough. And that was without even seeing Don’s images.
I sent an email to my graphic designer, attaching the images. Don’s email popped up and I forwarded that also. The designer would know what to do, which ones to pick. Would have a proof ready for me by Saturday morning. The same morning Brant and I would leave for Hawaii. I’d review the proof, then fly to the island. Give the boys a week to work and have everything set up by the time I returned. I closed my laptop and waddled to the bathroom. Unwrapped my feet and rinsed off the moisture mask.