Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“Ohh, you’re going to How To Lose a Guy in Ten Days him?”
“Yeah. It’ll be kinda fun, really.”
“It will be. How unhinged are you going to go?”
“I’m thinking enough to have a fake arrest. Mob guys don’t want to deal with the police, right?”
“Can your FBI agent arrange that?” She pushes Loki into a trot and Thor perks his head up, thinking we’re going to race. I smile and roll my eyes, knowing our walk is faster than Loki’s trot.
“He’s not mine, and probably. I mean, he’s in the FBI.”
“Now, he’s a hottie.”
“I suppose,” I say, not wanting to acknowledge it. Mason Harris doesn’t have much of a social media footprint, but I was able to find him in some tagged photos on his sister’s Instagram. The photos were from three Christmases ago, but Mason hasn’t aged much in that time. Though, I do think his biceps are considerably bigger now…not that it matters. “He’s kinda arrogant.”
“What man isn’t?”
“Hah. Right?” Letting Thor take the lead, I push all thoughts out of my head and focus on exercising my horse. He’s a little fresh today, and my focus is on keeping him calm—and staying on—and I don’t think about anything else until we’re walking back into the barn. It’s the thing I love most about horses: everything else just melts away.
“Just keep me updated,” Kat says as we walk to our cars about an hour later. “I’m going to call and ask if you fed Vinny.” Vinny was a horse she had several years ago who died, and it’s our code in our girl group to make sure everything is okay.
“Thanks. And, uh, don’t tell Zara or Elsie yet. Elsie will lose her shit with worry and Zara…she’ll be too into it.”
“I won’t say anything. The less people who know the better.”
“Right. I’ll spill all the tea when I can.”
“I know you will,” she says, knowing that keeping secrets from each other typically isn’t something we do. Though we’re all adults and sometimes certain things are said to certain people and we understand that too. “I will be waiting for updates though.”
“I’ll do my best to give you play-by-plays.”
She laughs. “Good. Have fun? Is that the right thing to say?”
I shake my head. “I have no idea. At least I have an excuse to dress up a bit tonight.”
“True. If you need to stop by and borrow something, let me know.”
“Oh, I might. Thanks!”
“Of course. Talk to you later!”
I get into my car and tap the screen on my phone. I have a text from a client, canceling her appointment because she had to pick up a puking kid from school. Which means I have the next several hours free. I start the car and roll down the windows, mentally debating what to do. I have a forty-minute drive from the barn to my apartment and then a full three hours until my next sessions. Mason did say he wanted to prep a little more before I went out tonight, and seeing that it was going to be a tight squeeze to get everything in before my eight PM dinner date, I text him that I’m free now.
“Hey, pretty lady.”
I turn, recognizing Mason’s voice right away. His blue eyes meet mine for a half second and I hate the thrill that goes through me. I blink and get a flash of that hunk of a man in bed, over top of me, biceps bulging as he holds himself up.
Violet pulls on the leash, tail wagging like mad as Mason approaches. He drops down and pets my dog, giving her a good pet before looking back at me.
“And hi to you, too.”
“Hi,” I say flatly, hating that he’s so charming. A man like him isn’t to be trusted. I’ve seen enough to know someone like him is a walking heartbreak. I try not to generalize, but men like Mason—handsome, fit, working a high-stakes, dangerous job—are more into good times rather than long times when it comes to relationships. “Thanks for meeting with me.”
“Of course,” he says, straightening up. He doesn’t immediately brush the dog fur from his shirt. “I need to brief you as best as possible so tonight isn’t a complete disaster.”
“It wouldn’t be a disaster,” I retort. “I’ve already met with Matthew and things went well.”
“According to you.”
I raise my eyebrows, staring at him incredulously. Cocky asshole. Yep, he’s definitely a womanizer. “Fine. Enlighten me with your wisdom.”
He cracks a half smile and motions with his head to walk. We met along Lakeshore drive so I could walk Violet up and down the shore. I have a full day seeing clients tomorrow as well as one appointment to follow a client’s fiancé who claims to have lunch alone. Just based on the fact his Instagram follow list looks like he went to an all-girls school, I’m pretty sure what I’ll find tomorrow.