Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“Sounds perfect,” Lex says with a chuckle, then his eyes flick back to me, and the grin fades. He clears his throat, suddenly sounding reluctant. “Uh… yeah, just one thing. Got a bit of a situation.” Lex rubs at the back of his neck, his tone clearly irritated. “Got a reporter following me around for the next couple of weeks. Part of the whole PR stunt the team’s pulling. So, she’ll be tagging along.”
“Yeah, mate,” Lex says with a disappointed sigh. “I know. Believe me. But don’t worry, I’ll still come. Just… no chaos tonight, all right?”
Whatever the other person says causes Lex to laugh. “You need to be on your best behavior too. You’re a menace.” He listens for a moment longer before ending the conversation with a “Cheers.”
Lex slips the phone back into his pocket and appraises me. “I’m told you’re supposed to shadow me at all times. Hope you’re ready for tonight. You’re gonna get to see some behind-the-scenes fun.”
Lex Hamilton’s idea of fun is exactly what the tabloids thrive on, and the thought of following him into that world is a little intimidating. While I’m committed to squeezing all the juice from this opportunity, I know I’m out of my depth.
He must sense my hesitation and pounces on it. “Unless you’d rather not be involved in that. If you want to keep our interactions focused on the business side of things—”
“I’ll come,” I say quickly before I can talk myself out of it. I’m in too deep not to take advantage of his offer, and if I’m going to write this book, I need to experience it all.
Lex sighs. “I figured you might.” But then his smirk returns, a glimmer of something else in his eyes—maybe a test to see if I can handle this side of his life. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. Sort of.”
His words hang in the air as he walks past me, leaving me to wonder exactly what I’ve gotten myself into.
CHAPTER 3
Posey
I’m not sure what I was expecting when Lex said we were going out tonight, but I can guarantee it wasn’t this. I look down at my jeans tucked into knee-high boots, feeling every inch the awkward American in the middle of this trendy London nightclub. I think I might be the only woman not wearing a skimpy dress, but I at least put on a sparkly blouse and earrings to match.
The music is loud, pulsing through the room, and the lights flash in time with the beat, casting everyone in shades of neon pink and blue. People here are dressed to the nines—sparkly dresses, designer shoes, leather jackets—and then there’s me. I’ve got my notepad tucked away in my bag, ready to whip it out if I need to look like I’m doing my “job.”
Lex, on the other hand, looks like he belongs here. He’s dressed in a fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows—showcasing some amazing forearm porn, if I’m honest—and dark jeans that cling to his athletic frame. A silver watch glints on his wrist, and his hair is perfectly tousled, like he didn’t even try. He’s not blending in but standing out. Girls in tight, revealing clothing throw themselves at him and he doesn’t seem to mind one bit.
No, he’s enjoying it, and I find it typical and cliché.
We’ve been sitting at a private table arranged by the management in a roped-off section of the club, and I’m trying to make the best of an uncomfortable situation. I don’t fit in with this crowd and I have nothing in common with Lex, but this deceptive escapade is going to be anything but easy.
What’s even worse, his friend, Ronan Barnes—the second driver for Crown Velocity—is an absolute douche and Lex doesn’t seem to mind it at all.
Ronan is tall, with a build like Lex’s, but more… polished. He’s dressed in an expensive blazer, designer everything, like he’s a fashion model in his spare time. His blond hair is slicked back, and everything about him screams arrogance.
He was so rude when Lex introduced us, not waiting for the formality of it. When we entered the club, I followed Lex back to the private area. We walked up to the table where Ronan had been camped and he looked me up and down like I was a bug and asked, “Who’s the mouse?”
It would have been understandable for any girl to wilt under his critical gaze and demeaning description, but I’m made of sterner stuff. I know I’m not stunning and sexy like these women who flock around Lex and Ronan, but I don’t think I’m all that unfortunate. People always say I look like the college girl next door. My dark brown hair is thick and glossy, my skin is clear, and I have a smattering of freckles over my nose that can sometimes make me look much younger than my twenty-three years. My eyes are my best feature in my opinion, settling somewhere on the color spectrum between gold and green. Hazel, I guess is the proper term, but there’s no brown within, merely striations of burnt amber.