Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Rayne, I wasn’t expecting you. I was just making a salad for lunch. Do you want to eat with us?”
“Sure.” Odette was always sweet and stayed quietly in the background. When Remington paid attention to her, their chemistry was adorable.
As soon as Remington saw me, he looked befuddled. He was clearly surprised by my presence since he hadn’t instructed me to come to him. Yet, there I was, ready to serve his needs for the sake of peace. He also overlooked that I was giving up a day with my family to help him—on a day that I had clearly scheduled for personal time.
“Meyers, we need to go through the proposal from Landry and compare it with the rundown we received from PCK. I want you to dig up everything you can find on both CEOs. Everything. Figure out their wives’ names, who their mistresses are, how they voted in the last election, what allergies their children have, where they golf, and anything else of use. Leave no stone unturned.”
This was the drill whenever Remington prepared a buyout. Most times, his victims didn’t even foresee selling their companies. But Remington had a way of zeroing in on people’s pressure points until they viewed him as an ally and confidant. In the end, he always looked like a savior and got exactly what he wanted.
“Sure.”
I was elbow-deep in notes when Odette brought my salad to the dim study.
“You know,” she said, setting my plate beside the open laptop. “It might not be my place to say this, but you could tell him no.”
I laughed. “Have you tried that?”
“I do every day. At least twice. He’s a demanding man, but it’s good for him to feel challenged. The more he gets his way, the more demanding he becomes. It’s healthy for him to face denial from time to time.”
“Well, he only has me for another hour because I have my own demanding man waiting at home.”
She patted my shoulder and left me to my work.
One of the men I researched was expected to attend tonight’s dinner party, so I supposed this was a time-sensitive issue. When I finally had all the information organized, I delivered it to the dining room where Remington had set up shop.
“Here. This is everything I could find.”
He glanced up from his work and took the print out I prepared. His gaze moved over the information quickly. “What about the PCK fellow?”
“He’ll have to wait. I need to get back to the house to get ready.”
“I asked for reports on both.”
“That’s funny, Remington because I asked for a personal day.” Our eyes met, and I dared him to say another word, especially when he had not even thanked me for giving him a few hours on my day off.
“Success doesn’t take a holiday, Meyers.”
“Well, I do. Hale’s waiting for me.”
He sighed and set the papers aside, realizing he wasn’t going to win this one. “I hired a car for tonight.”
I paused, hating the position I frequently found myself in whenever Remington tried to micromanage the minor details of our life. Sometimes, it was like navigating a minefield between the two of them.
Initially, I found Remington’s gestures thoughtful. But over the years, I learned how much these little helpful moves irritated Hale. He saw his father’s thoughtfulness as heavy-handedness. And Remington saw his son’s reluctance to accept help as stubbornness. As far as I was concerned, they were both stubborn jackasses.
When I returned to the house, I fixed my hair. Hale was already dressed in his tux, and I was dreading my dress. Elegance was always a challenge for me, but being pregnant made it more so.
The pre-Thanksgiving dinner party was a tradition that the Davenports attended every year. No one really got excited about them, but skipping the affair was out of the question.
“Oh, I remember those old, dusty dinner parties,” Naomi commented when she popped into our room to ask where Elara’s extra bibs were. “The food’s usually good.”
I had somehow escaped this social obligation during my prior Thanksgivings with the Davenports, but I was running out of excuses and Hale was insistent that I attend with him this year.
“I look ridiculous in this dress.” The Di Lorenzo gown fell to the floor in soft chiffon ripples as I moved to the mirror. The low-cut neckline was black velvet and hung off one shoulder. I chewed my lip, considering what other options I had. “I should change.”
“What? No.” Naomi crossed the room and turned me slowly. “You look stunning.”
I scrunched my nose. The skirt of the dress was intentionally sheer. The taupe layers were dotted with velvet, providing slight camouflage, but my bodysuit underneath was completely visible to anyone looking hard enough.
“I look like an eggplant.” My boobs were bursting past the neckline, my belly was protruding, and I never knew what to do with my hair.