Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
We pull up outside the hotel, so I pay and get out. “Yeah, well, I have nothing to hide.” What do I care if people go digging around after me? I put most of it on Instagram anyway. I know my parents aren’t famous like Vivian is famous, but in the world of medicine, they’re as close to celebrities as a person can be. Everyone knows me because of them; it was the same when I started to practice. I’m used to scrutiny.
“But the NDA is part of that contract. We want to make sure that what goes on between you and Vivian stays between you and Vivian.”
“Who am I going to tell?”
I head into the lobby and turn left as Vivian’s assistant—who messaged me this afternoon—instructed, even though I was here last night. I guess she didn’t know that. I head to the lifts.
“I’m going to have to go, Tommy. I’m in the hotel now.”
I press cancel and step into the lift.
I turn left when I get out of the lift, but I don’t need to remind myself of the room numbers on the doors to tell where Vivian is. There’s a guy who’s about as tall as me when I’m on Jacob’s shoulders and three times as wide, standing at the end of the corridor in a black suit, looking like he wants to kill me.
He’s new.
I shake my head. So many people are involved in tonight. It’s certainly not the low-key dinner I’d envisaged when I suggested this. I don’t mind. It’s just…not how I usually roll.
“I’m Beau Cove,” I say as I get to the door.
“You got ID?” the security guy asks.
ID? I chuckle but slide my driving license out of my wallet. I want to offer him a blood sample, but at the same time, I don’t want my head pushed through a wall.
As soon as I show it to him, the door behind him opens. “Beau?” A small woman with very short, dark hair pops her head out.
“That’s me,” I reply.
She tips her head back toward the room behind her and we go inside. “Oh how sweet,” she says as she glances down at the flowers. I follow her down the long corridor toward the living room. “You got her flowers. You really didn’t need to.” She’s acting like I’m giving them to her. “I hear you’re new to these kinds of arrangements—you know, the fake relationships stuff. Things like flowers—you don’t need to do it. You’re not really dating.” I presume this is Betty, Vivian’s assistant, although she hasn’t introduced herself and I’m not sure if she’s trying to be protective or just rude. “If you let me have them, I’ll put them in a vase,” she says.
“Erm, if it’s okay by you, I’d like to give them to Vivian first.”
“Oh, okay. If you like,” she says from in front of me, not bothering to turn around. “My name is Betty, by the way. I’m Vivian’s assistant.”
“Hi, Betty.”
The corridor opens into the same sitting room I sat in yesterday, except everything looks different. For a start, there’s at least half a dozen people in the room and the furniture has been changed around so there’s a dressing table and mirrors along the wall and a high chair facing the view of the city. Vivian is sitting in the chair, staring straight ahead while one person brushes something on her face and another does something to her hair. A third person paints her nails and another…it looks like she’s putting moisturizer on Vivian’s legs. I’d like to see the job description for that position.
Jesus, maybe I should have put a little more thought into my outfit today. To be fair, the fact that I put any thought into it at all is a first.
“Hey,” I say, meeting her gaze in the mirror.
She bursts into a smile. “Hey,” she replies.
“I bought these for you. Do you want me to go find a vase?”
“That’s so nice,” she replies. “Betty, please can you get some water for the flowers Beau brought?”
Before I can turn around, someone has scooped them out of my hands.
“We’re running a bit late,” she says. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“It’s not a problem. I feel a little weird not knowing where we’re going tonight.” I lean against the window and watch as people flit around her, tweaking and puffing and brushing and generally pawing at her. She looks beautiful, but I can’t help thinking she looks a little less like herself.
“Oh, Betty, where did Felicity book us for dinner?” she calls out. It’s weird having a conversation about dinner when there are so many people around.
“Sexy Fish,” Betty calls from over by the small kitchen.
I nod. “Not far to go then.”
“Guys, are we done yet?” Vivian asks. “I thought we were going for a casual look.”