Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“Shut the fuck up.”
* * *
I’d wondered about the quality of the restaurant we were meeting at, but as I entered Fever Pitch, I was pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t half bad. The booths and tables were packed with patrons engaged in lively conversations. In a corner room, a couple of pool tables were set up. No one was playing at them just yet, but I figured it was probably a little early for that.
Jace and I hadn’t exchanged numbers, but I assumed he would keep his word. Wasn’t much of a reason for him to stand me up when he could have just as easily told me to fuck off the day before.
I checked my phone.
6:45 p.m.
He had some time, so I made myself comfortable on a stool at the bar on the other side of the restaurant. The bartender grabbed me a dirty martini, which I enjoyed during my wait, watching the baseball game playing on the TV screen behind the bar.
I glanced around the restaurant once again, noticing a table where a little boy, maybe eight, made faces at who I assumed was his younger sister. His sis laughed, and his mom told him to cut it out.
A real-life family.
Something worth drinking to.
I downed most of my martini before I heard a voice behind me say, “Now don’t get started without me.” I set my glass down and turned to see those dark blue eyes peering right through me, the way they seemed to in the Instagram photo.
“Hey, Dallas, you mind grabbing me a cold Budweiser?” he asked the bartender. “And I think my buddy’ll have another.”
“That’d be great, thanks.”
He slumped onto the stool beside me, and once Dallas brought us our drinks, we headed over to a booth.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” I said.
“Well, it’s my day off, and I figured I had to eat dinner anyway.” He took a sip from his Budweiser bottle, then set it on the table, narrowing his eyes, his lips twisting up at the corners. “I swear, if you say you want an interview, though…”
“No interview. Promise.”
“What kind of business proposition are we talking about, then?”
“I’m with a PR company. We handle some of the biggest accounts in the country, everything from Mercedes to Gerber Baby to Abercrombie. We develop their top ad strategies, head up their biggest campaigns.”
“Oh, wow. Is that why you were acting like you were such a big deal when you came into the station, all wearing your sunglasses inside?”
“No, I was—”
“I’m just giving you hell, man.” That charming smile overtook his face. It caught me nearly as off guard as he did. “I’m just trying to get a feel of you.”
You can feel me all you want.
I tightened my fist as I worked to control the desire he stirred.
“So where you from?”
“Los Angeles. Well, West Hollywood really.”
“Ah, a big-city boy. And you’re not denying it, so what do you think of our Fever Falls?”
“Did you want to talk about Fever Falls or about a business proposition?”
“Can’t we talk about both? Or were you in some rush?”
“I’m always in a rush.”
His face scrunched up, and I noticed he was even more attractive like that. Made me wonder what he looked like when he was fucking someone…a woman, I reminded myself, given the info Carter had shared with me.
“That sounds more revealing than you probably meant it.”
Again with those goddamn eyes of his that looked right into me as though they could see back into my past, my history…my everything.
“Fever Falls seems like a nice place. Very friendly,” I said, redirecting the conversation back to his inquiry.
Jace shook his head. “You aren’t a fan, are you?”
“I can honestly say that most of my time has been spent in the hotel, so I wouldn’t be able to speak to it more than that.”
“Fair enough. Just, some guys from places like New York City and LA can get a little judgy when they come here. We’re not the biggest city in the world, but stick around and you’ll find some great people.”
“I have no doubt about that,” I assured him, playing along with his game more than paying much mind to what he was saying.
The waiter arrived and took our orders.
“Just chicken tenders?” he asked me as soon as the waiter left. I wasn’t surprised by the question because the way he kept on with his order, I figured he might as well have asked for one of everything on the menu.
“Diet.”
He seemed particularly annoyed by that, but didn’t comment further. Just said, “Okay, I’m ready to hear about this business proposition.”
“One of my company’s clients has expressed serious interest in working with you for their current ad campaign.”
“Ad campaign?”
“Yeah, billboards, commercials. This would be a little bit of everything.”
“Who is this?”
“Well, I’d be happy to disclose that, but if you’re interested, I say we at least sign an NDA and an agreement that you’re willing to work with us.”