Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Laddie,” I said. “It’s almost midnight. Should you be in bed?”
“I’m just making sure. Don’t let me down; I set this up as a favor to her sister, and I am in big trouble if you’re a no-show,” he warned.
“Did I ever let you down?” I laughed at the seriousness of his tone, emerging from the office building and speeding up as I made my way along the sidewalk, thankful that I was meeting her in some hipster cocktail place that had just opened up a few blocks away.
“Not yet,” he said warmly. “I will warn you though, she isn’t exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer…”
“Right, cheers for dropping that in at the last minute! I’ve just arrived. Later.”
I hung up and took a deep breath as I entered the cocktail place. Sitting at the bar was one lone woman. Her shiny jet black hair, cut sharply in a distinctive modern style, skimmed her shoulders and complimented her fashionable vibrant blue dress, skin-tight and clinging to all the right places. In an instant, I wished I had had time to change. If this was going to be a success, I was going to have to own it.
“Hey, you must be Lucy?” I gave her my best smile and saw her quickly look me up and down, but her expression gave nothing away.
“And you must be Keegan.” She gave a polite smile.
“I’m so sorry you had to wait, I got held up at the office.” I held up my hands in apology. “I considered going home to change, but I didn’t want to make you wait…”
“It’s fine.” She lifted her oversized cocktail glass and drained it, standing up and slipping a tiny jacket off the back of her chair. I was surprised how annoyed I was to have blown it. I stood back to let her pass me, gesturing to the bartender to come over. I was going to need a drink.
“Look, I apologize. I am ten minutes late, but I…” Her look stopped me in my tracks.
“I said it’s fine. Let’s go. You wanted to go home and… undress, right?” She turned to face me directly, and I must have stared at her like a complete idiot because she gave me the most sultry smile I had ever seen and took my hand in hers, turning and weaving her way between the tables to the door, with me following behind like a willing slave.
Chapter 5
FREYA
WE WERE ALL pretty proud of the purpose-built home studio where the magic of Dynasty Games happened, but I have to admit, it was nothing compared to the headquarters of Clover House. I’d never really noticed the building before, but walking through the huge glass doors and into a vast lobby, dotted with professional-looking loiterers sipping coffee, I felt totally out of my depth. I made my way to the sleek reception desk, and the receptionist greeted me with a huge smile, asked me to take a seat, and said someone would be with me shortly. I hadn’t even told her who I was, but I did as she said.
I sat in the reception before a huge display case showing off Clover House’s merchandise and awards. On the wall behind the receptionist were posters of their best-selling games and latest launches, including Cre8ure. Twice I almost got up and left, and twice I convinced myself to stay and go through with what increasingly felt like the plan of a madwoman.
It was the thought of my parents that convinced me to take the risk, really. It had been ten days since Clover House had pulled the rug out from underneath us, and I had had to stand by and watch as first the business, and then my family began unraveling. The lawyers couldn’t seem to find anything to pin on them; at the last meeting they had suggested the whole thing was a massive coincidence. Clover House, who happen to be in the same city, had just happened to have exactly the same game idea and had just happened to create it under total secrecy and release it at the same time as we had planned to release ours. The meeting had left my mother sobbing and my sister so angry that she ran a red light on the way home and wound up with a ticket. My dad had retreated into silence, tending his garden and pottering in his garage, only looking in to check if Drew had come across any clues as to how it might have happened.
Drew had been a rock. He kept my parents in a steady supply of pastries and optimism, even offering new game ideas that might offer a way out of the financial crisis that loomed. Nobody had the heart to take on anything new, and when I suggested anything, my ideas were dismissed. That was why I was sitting in my best job-interview sensible skirt and shirt combo in the glassy lobby of Clover House, hoping that my nervous ticks weren’t obvious from across the room.