Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 94546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I have enough details to take down Octavia’s unwanted admirer in a sea of millions within seconds, but just in case, I inconspicuously point him out to Fitz, my head of security. While he moves to evict my no-longer-welcomed guest from the festivities, I wordlessly gesture for Trent to bring one of the town cars to the side of the pavilion so I won’t need to risk a second stomp through a horse-poo riddled swamp to leave.
I was late to the proceedings as Octavia suggested, but since my helicopter was responsible for coating her silky mane with manure, I’ll keep that confession on the down-low for a little longer.
This event was organized months ago. It is meant to announce the merger of two companies in a fun, non-threatening manner. Often when companies amalgamate, the less established of the two feels threatened. Workers commence seeking new placements, and management lets them go instead of fighting to keep the staff we acquired their company for to begin with.
I shift my eyes from Fitz’s infamous neck pinch that subdues assailants quicker than my surly attitude when the brunette’s nostrils flare in response to Octavia’s new scent. “Is that—”
“Poop? Yep. That’s what you’re smelling,” Octavia interrupts, horrified.
The brunette’s glossy locks fall off her shoulders when she slants her head to the side and arches a brow. “I was going to say…” She freezes when it finally dawns on her that Octavia hasn’t arrived alone. “Oh… hello.” She gives Octavia an opened-mouthed commendation before locking her eyes with mine. She’s dressed similar to Octavia, but her captivating frame and beautiful face only stop men in their tracks instead of altering their personalities altogether. “And you are?”
“Ah… Jess, this is…” Octavia curses under her breath before voicelessly requesting my assistance like she did earlier when she wanted me to fix more than the obscurity coating her sweltering skin.
Appreciative of the return of the groove between her brows, I leave her hanging for a couple of seconds before introducing, “Jack. Nice to meet you, Jess.”
When I offer her my hand to shake, she accepts it, albeit hesitantly. “Have I seen you around?” She tightens her grip before yanking me in close, which should be no easy feat considering I’m six-three, and she’s the size of a fairy. “You’re not from HR, are you? Those guys give me the heebie-jeebies.”
“No.” I step back before straightening my suit jacket like it isn’t sullied with manure. “I’m not from HR.” Well, not exactly. I’m technically their boss.
Missing the deceit in my tone, Jess wipes at the invisible sweat on her brow. I can’t say the same for Octavia. She’s eyeing me more curiously now than when I suggested she play hooky with the stranger who skipped an introduction to go straight to third base. “Phew, because from what I heard, they won’t be around that long either.” Her bottom lip quivers as she drops it into a pout. “None of us will be.” I shoot my eyes to my newest business partner when she adds, “We’ve been bought out. Some hotshot billionaire with a corn kernel for a dick offered Mr. Potts a few million too many.”
I told Mr. Potts to keep news of a merger under wraps until I arrived. The fact he can’t follow a simple order reveals I’ll be looking for new management long before I replace the creeps in human resources.
“Potts Holdings has been sold?” Octavia asks at the same time I mutter, “Are you basing your corn kernel assumption on facts or hearsay?”
Jess smiles in a way that exposes you couldn’t torture an answer out of her before she curls her arm around Octavia’s back and guides her deeper into the tent.
I let her go so I can simply have a word with Mr. Potts before the opening of trade Monday morning.
“Jack… ah, Mr. Carson. Welcome.” Mr. Potts fumbles for a glass of wine on a waiter’s tray as clumsily as he stumbles out a greeting. “Festivities turned out nice, yes?”
“Yes.” My reply is purely based on my unexpected meeting with Ms. Octavia Henslee, not an event that cost almost a million dollars to orchestrate. “But I was of the belief you were not to mention the merger of our companies until I had arrived.”
“Oh… yes… umm. That would be correct. I… just… ah… wasn’t sure if you were still planning to attend today when you didn’t arrive before the first race.” For his slow start, he certainly finishes quickly. “I know how much you love a punt on race day, so something quite spectacular must have kept you occupied for you to miss the opener.”
“It was spectacular,” I agree while watching Octavia accept the glass of bubbly I declined. “However, that doesn’t give you free-for-all to say what you want. We had an agreement. You didn’t keep your end of the agreement.”