Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
ASPEN
THREE MONTHS LATER
Walking through the door of Aspen’s, a wide smile breaks across my face. It’s Austin’s opening night and every seat is filled. There’s a line waiting out the door, despite the restaurant having been booked out months in advance. There’s media out front interviewing the people waiting in line and getting shots of the celebrities and socialites who managed to somehow score a booking.
Izaac’s hand hovers on my lower back, leading me through the restaurant and toward our table where my parents are already seated, and they quickly stand, welcoming us in. I walk around to Mom and she pulls me in for a quick hug, dropping a kiss on my cheek. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”
“Perfect,” I say, having graduated college a few weeks ago and now enjoying every minute of life with Izaac, despite how he forces me out the door every day to go to work. Don’t get me wrong, I’m working for one of the best PR companies in the state, and every second of it has been incredible, but leaving our bed every day is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“Oh good,” Mom says before I lean toward Dad and give him a quick hug. He presses a swift kiss to my forehead, and after greeting Izaac, we all sit down. I see Austin rushing around the restaurant, visiting tables, and making sure everything is running smoothly for opening night. He stops by to say hi, gives me a kiss on the cheek, and calls me a loser before side-eyeing Izaac. It’s taken a while, and despite his ability to keep his mouth shut and be happy for me, the relationship between the boys has remained strained. But Austin is trying, and that’s all I can ask for.
He scurries away, making sure to get his best waitress to stop by our table and give us the kind of service that’s reserved for royalty. She takes our orders, and as we wait for our meals, I sip on a glass of wine with Izaac’s hand resting on my thigh.
“How’s work going?” my father asks Izaac, knowing how talking about his clubs always gets him excited. “Keeping busy?”
“Always keeping busy,” Izaac says, his gaze flicking toward me. “But there have been some new developments.”
My brows furrow, trying to figure out what the hell he’s talking about. I don’t think any of his clubs were going through any renovations at the moment, apart from the dark room at Vixen, which he decided to tear out completely to add more floor space for the VIPs, not that he’s been giving me many details about it. He makes a point not to bring it up unless I specifically ask, which I don’t.
Izaac keeps watching me as if trying to decipher my reaction, but all I can do is stare back in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Izaac grins, and when he looks at me like this, it’s like everyone else fades into the background. “I, uhh . . . might have bought another club.”
My jaw drops, and I gape at him. “You did what?”
“Yeah, I closed on it last week.”
“Holy shit,” I breathe, throwing my arm around him and awkwardly hugging him from my seat at the table. “That’s amazing.”
“Oh, congratulations, honey,” Mom coos before calling over the waitress and ordering another bottle of wine. “We have to celebrate!”
“Woah. Celebrate? Who the fuck is celebrating?” Austin demands, skidding to a stop behind us as he does another lap of the main floor. His eyes are wide in horror as he looks between me and Izaac, and after dropping his gaze to my right hand and seeing the diamond ring resting on my finger, his hand comes down on Izaac’s shoulder, and he leans in so as to not cause a scene. “You proposed to my fucking sister without even talking to me about it first?”
Izaac’s hands fly up in innocence. “Wrong fucking hand, bro.”
“Oh, umm . . .” Austin clears his throat before straightening up and offering me an awkward smile. “My bad. What are we celebrating?”
“Izaac just purchased another club,” Mom supplies.
“No shit,” he says. “Where?”
Izaac launches into his rundown of the new club, giving us all his incredible plans as our meals are delivered. He gives us everything we need to know. Location, size, capacity, and even goes into his vision for the layout, though it’s hard to imagine without getting to look at it, but he promises we can swing by tomorrow and he’ll show me everything.
Austin congratulates him and quickly excuses himself when he hears a little commotion coming from the kitchen, and the second he’s gone, Izaac turns back to me with a lazy, knowing grin. “I’m thinking of calling it Little Birdy.”
I gape at him, my heart racing. “What?”
“Well, I can’t have all of my clubs named after you and not this one.”