Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
He leaned forward slightly. “I think the best thing to do is nothing. For now. Learn what you can from Julia over the next week or two, and then we’ll figure out where to place you. However, if you want to continue, you’ll need a wardrobe reboot. Julia can help. Are you ready to go?”
“So, that’s it?”
“Yes.”
His smile was dismissive, condescending, and cold. Sure, he was still hot as fuck, but his icy gaze stung. He was done with me. Problem solved, unexpected item checked off his to-do list, back to reality.
That should have been fine. Graham didn’t owe me a thing. In fact, he was being kind in his own way, but his cool mask was the dose of reality I’d been skirting around all day. My one-night stand was my new boss, and anything he offered was a pity position. My dignity had taken a few hits over the past year, but damn it, this felt like a new low.
I couldn’t do this.
“Thank you, but I decline.” I dabbed my mouth with the corner of my napkin, offering my hand as I stood. “Dinner was awesome-sauce. I appreciate it. And it was nice to see you again. Take care and good night, Mr. Horsham.”
Graham knit his thick eyebrows in a combination of disapproval and confusion. “Raine…”
I dropped my hand when he left me hanging and saluted him instead. “Later.”
And with that, I spun on my heel and marched directly into a waiter balancing a tray of dessert, cups, saucers, and yeah…tea.
China and silverware clattered and Victoria sponge cakes and Italian gelatos splattered obscenely on the expensive-looking carpet as lukewarm tea fell like rain. The whole restaurant went ghostly quiet for a blessed moment. And then all hell broke loose in a cacophony of gasps, shrieks, and a flurry of motion.
I instinctively bent to help gather broken dishes, apologizing profusely to the waiter and the grumpy man with buttercream frosting on his beard. The well-trained staff hurried over with the urgency of paramedics arriving at the scene of a car wreck. They took over, righting everything I’d fucked up within a few minutes.
The melee died as they retreated, leaving me standing in the middle of the mess I’d made with my one-night-stand-slash-ex-boss staring at me in horror. Or maybe exasperation?
I swallowed angry tears, wiping gelato from my ruined suit coat. With as much grace as I could muster under the circumstances, I sashayed to the exit, head held high.
“Raine! Stop.”
No chance.
I turned left on the cobblestoned alley and was about to merge with the sea of umbrellas dodging the heavy rain on Regent Street, but a strong hand grabbed my elbow and pointed at a Range Rover idling under a lamplight.
“No, I’m done with today. I’m done with yesterday and the day before too. I’m just fucking done. Now if you’ll excuse me, sir, I have to figure out where the fuck I live. Good-bye.”
“You have pistachio gelato on your coat, tea in your hair, and it’s raining. Come with me,” Graham commanded.
I glanced from the family of four next to me at the crosswalk, gaping with unabashed curiosity at the SUV clogging traffic on the busy road in a panic. When lightning cracked the sky open a moment later, I gave up.
My shoulders slumped in defeat as I followed Graham and climbed into his waiting vehicle, where a privacy screen was drawn between Collins and us. I shrugged my coat off and settled against the fancy upholstery, warily eyeing the towel Graham pushed at me.
“Thanks,” I grumbled.
“You don’t do anything by half, do you?”
“Hmph.” I wiped drippy ice cream and frosting from my shirt and coat, willing my heart rate to slow down a notch or ten.
“Where do you live?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere near Kensington Palace. If you drop me off at the nearest Tube station, I’ll be fine.”
“We’ll head in that direction.” Graham leaned forward and gave his driver instructions, then shifted in his seat to face me. “What happened back there? What set you off?”
I barked a humorless laugh. “You. And…me. And fuck, all of this sets me off. Yes, I need a job, but I obviously had no idea what I was getting myself into. I can’t work for you, though…anywhere. I can’t afford the wardrobe, I don’t know your language, I—”
“Clothes are the easy part,” he interrupted calmly. “And every profession has a unique language. I’m sure you know that.”
“Yes, but this is different.” I closed my eyes briefly. “I’m losing my last shred of self-respect here. Only a real dumbshit pushes replay on the same damn nightmare. I won’t work for someone I’ve seen naked again. And before you say anything, don’t. I don’t want your pity. This is all…bad juju.”
“Juju?”
“Karma, luck, kismet.” I tapped the window. “You just passed a subway station.”
“Tube,” he corrected. “What will you do for employment?”