Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
The five of us take our seats, mixed in with the other ladies in the audience, and for the next half hour, we listen raptly as London tells us all about her childhood, where she comes from, and how it was important to her to set herself apart from her billionaire father. To make her own way in business.
I have to check with Libby, the manager of the bar, to make sure we’re okay to run over our allotted time because there’s no sign of anyone wanting to leave by 8:00 p.m.
In fact, London is still answering questions at nine, and I step in to save her.
“Let’s give London the chance to catch her breath,” I suggest and pass the woman a glass of wine. “I suspect that we’ll be able to talk her into coming back another time to speak with us again.”
“You got it,” London confirms after sipping her wine. “I have a condo here at the resort, and I would love to come back. I’d also like to speak with some of you individually. Based on what I’ve heard, you all have some incredible business ideas.”
I move off to the side with her and hug her tightly.
“Thank you.” I hold her hands in mine. “You’re welcome every month, if you want to come, and we won’t make you be a speaker. Just come for fun.”
“OMG, do it!” Erin hops on her toes with excitement. “Bring all the girl cousins with you. Okay, maybe that’s a bit aggressive, but you know what I mean.”
“I’ll take you up on coming often,” London promises. “And you know as well as I do that many of the cousins are entrepreneurs. I’ll bring them.”
“Excuse me,” Stephanie Miller, a local photographer, says with a shy smile. “I know you have to be tired after we all railed you with questions, but, London, do you mind if I pick your brain for a few minutes?”
“Of course not. Stephanie, right?”
The two walk off to talk in a quiet corner, and I turn to my cohorts with a grin. “This was a huge success.”
“And it’s just the beginning,” Millie reminds me. “We need to do this every month, like you said. We can do themes and poll the women to find out what they want to learn more about. We can do workshops, too.”
“I’m so glad it worked,” Abbi says with a relieved sigh. “Everyone had fun, the bar had a good amount of business, and London rocked it.”
“She really did,” Erin says with a proud nod. “She’s awesome.”
With Polly and I being the last to leave, we walk to our cars parked just outside of the bar.
“I’ll see you later,” she says with a tired wave. “I’m going to go sleep for about a week now. You’d think we’ve just partied all night long.”
“I know. Instead, we stayed up past our bedtime, talking business with some super-smart girls.”
Polly’s grin is wide and smug. “It was awesome.”
I get in my car, and before I leave, I shoot Chase a text. I’ve been in contact with him throughout the evening, especially when I realized we’d be here much later than we first thought.
Me: We’re done here! I’m going to drop these flowers off at the shop so they stay cold. Charlie wants them for a wedding tomorrow. Then I’ll be home.
The three dots bounce on my screen as Chase types out his reply.
Chase: Just drive safely. Need anything?
I grin at the question. That’s Chase, always ready to make sure I’m taken care of.
Me: No, I’m good. I had food. Can’t wait to tell you all about it!
Chase hearts my message, and I start the car and head back into the heart of downtown, which isn’t very far. I would usually park in the alley, behind the shop, to unload my car, but it’s dark, and I don’t like being back there by myself after dark. Even in Bitterroot Valley.
So, I pull up to a stop at the curb out front and unlock the door first, move to disable the alarm, and then realize that it’s not set. With a frown, I stare at the keypad. I could have sworn I set it when I left earlier.
Shrugging, I return to the car and grab four bouquets at a time, transferring them from my vehicle and into the walk-in cooler of my floral shop. When I’ve moved the last few bouquets, I pause and sniff the air. Something smells…hot.
“Smoke,” I mutter with a scowl as I round the glass counter toward the back room, and then I see the haze of smoke in the air. “Oh, shit. There’s a fire.”
I run back to the sink and fill up a pitcher, but when I round the corner again, I see flames reaching up to the ceiling, and I know my little pitcher of water isn’t going to do the trick.