Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 40311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Because my dad founded Lincoln Conglomerate way back when. We’ve done amazing in the last couple years, our valuation at over a billion now. But still, Henry runs this place like it’s a one man shop. He’s bossy, surly, and annoyingly controlling. Even with me as President, Henry still has to look over my shoulder every second, making sure things get done the way he likes it.
Seriously Dad, let go. You’re seventy-five now. It’s time.
But my father is a crafty old kook. Because he’s made it clear that I’m not getting control of the outfit until I get married. Until there’s a woman on my arm, spitting out babies.
What the hell? What does marriage have to do with business? But Henry is just like that. Old-fashioned and stubborn to boot.
“Marrying your mother is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he declared, gripping his pen tight. “I wouldn’t have been able to build this business without Evelyn at my side.”
I nodded. I get it. My mom held down the fort at home, raising me and Janine as Henry slaved away at work. But still. That didn’t mean that I needed a wife. In fact, the opposite. Not having a wife and family meant that I could focus more of my energies on Lincoln, giving it my undivided attention.
But Henry stood steadfast.
“Naw son. I was a wild man before I met your mother. Evelyn helped me settle down and get my business in order. If you do the same, then I’ll hand over the steering wheel. But not until that marriage certificate is signed,” he grunted.
I shook my head. There aren’t many things that can make me feel helpless, but dealing with Henry is one of them. What do you say to a stodgy old curmudgeon who’s been running the show for thirty years? It doesn’t matter that I’ve been President for the last ten, and that the company’s tripled in value under my watch. None of that made a difference unfortunately.
So I nodded. But the wheels in my brain turned. My fingers drummed the tabletop, food forgotten.
Because I’ve been arguing with Henry about this control thing for months now. And he’s stuck in the mud. Nothing’s going to change the man’s mind. But if he’s really serious about this marriage thing ….
The girl’s face flashed in front of me again. Yeah. Maggie, the pit bull charmer. She was my ticket to control of our conglomerate. Sweet and charming as hell, with a fresh face and a way about her that no man or dog could resist. My father was a combination of both so, yeah, the female was just the ticket.
In a cute designer dress and a sweet smile, my parents would both fall for her. She could be Jackie O, the Queen of Camelot. And it’d be easy. And after my father handed over the company to me, we’d break up.
Henry never said we had to stay married.
Simple.
Damn, I’m good.
Leaning back in my chair, a grin washed over my face. Things were looking up for the first time in a long time … and shit, but playing with this girl was going to be fun.
3
Maggie
The animals were such angels today, even the ones with problems. If only every day was this good. I hummed to myself and carried on making notes on a chart for a black lab that got adopted a couple hours ago. Such a happy ending for the sweet thing. It was nice when people didn’t just come to the pet store for a puppy or a pure-bred. Older animals and mixed breeds need love too.
“Hey, Maggie!”
Heaving a sigh, I looked up when Leah called my name. She’s been a real bitch since that cute guy with the pit bull left yesterday. It was insane, to be honest. Again, Leah’s got two kids and a doting husband. So why was she being so mean?
“What’s going on?” I called. “What is it?” She probably wanted me to lift and stack heavy bags of dog food again.
“Come out here, there’s somebody to see you.”
See me? Who? Must be a pain in the butt customer she didn’t want to deal with herself.
“I’ll be there in a second,” was my answering reply. The notation on the black lab’s chart was only halfway done, and I wanted to finish it. The customer could wait.
But Leah’s greying head popped around the door then.
“Come now!” she hissed. “Get your butt out here. You want to come now!”
God. How annoying.
“Fine,” I sighed. It was probably a fake emergency. But I dropped the pen on the chart, carefully taping a stickie to flag my place. Hopefully I could get rid of this person sooner rather than later and pick up right where I’d left off.
After all, it was late. Already eight thirty, and we closed at nine. As usual, I smelled like wood chips, sweat, and doggy shampoo at the end of a long shift. Not exactly Elizabeth Taylor’s White Velvet or Black Velvet, whichever it was.