Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“Guess you never asked.” Shrugging, I take a pull of whiskey.
“Hmm.” She reaches into the closet and starts touching things. “And that’s what you do now?” When she glances back at me, she asks, “Wealth management? I could have used some advice.”
“Debt abatement, consolidation of assets, bankruptcy consult, your situation isn’t my specialty.” I pull a bottle of wine from the wine fridge and set it on the counter.
She bends to get a closer look inside. Popping back up, she crosses her arms over her chest and shifts her weight onto her right side. “So you advise wealthy people how to get wealthier?”
I pluck the cork out using the corkscrew and grin. “No, I used to.”
Marlow’s eyebrows shoot up. “Then what do you do now?”
“Sit on the other side of the desk.”
It takes a moment, but I see when it dawns in her eyes like a sunrise over the blue ocean. Her arms lower, and she looks around the apartment as if she’s seeing it for the first time. Really seeing it.
“But you still go into work when you’re not saving damsels in distress,” she says so matter-of-factly.
“First, I didn’t save you, Marlow. You’re going to do that. Secondly, I like my work. I invest in companies that are changing the world. Sometimes, people just need someone to believe in them. That’s what I do.”
Satisfaction grows her smile, and she nods. “Thank you for everything you’re doing for me.”
“You don’t need to tell me thanks.”
She finally comes closer. Leaning against the counter with only an inch or two at most between us, she dips her fingertips under my shirt and into the top of my pants. “What if I show you instead?”
“I’d be okay with that.”
I’m whacked on the chest. “Only okay?”
“What do you want me to say? If you want to thank me with a blow job, I’m not going to stop you.”
“God, Jackson,” she says with a pretty epic eye roll and matching grin, “you’re so crude sometimes.”
Before she escapes, I run my hand around the smooth skin of her neck to the back and hold her there with her sass and snark intact as well as her eyes fixed on mine. She’s enjoying this more than she’ll let on. Fucking gorgeous, even in her irritation. “You can just call me Jackson, no need for the formal God part.” I’m whacked again, causing me to burst out laughing. “So that’s a no on the blow?”
She snatches the glass of wine and then returns to the couch, giving me a little wiggle of that ass as a tease. Settling back down into the leather, she sips after leveling me with a glare. “Is this how it’s going to be around here?”
“You mean awesome and fun?”
Finally giving in, she laughs and tugs her computer to her lap again. “I think I could settle for a few blow jobs for all you’ve done for me.”
“Nah, I don’t want payback. I’m only into it when you are.”
“Good thing I’m into it.” She takes a quick sip, but then her expression widens like she forgot something. “Just not right now, but don’t worry, I got ya covered.” She gives me a wink.
I think this woman is going to be the end of me. In the best of ways.
Although her focus is on setting up the sale of her bags, I don’t want to leave her. I need to, though. Taking off today will only cause me headaches tomorrow if I don’t squeeze a few hours of work in. “Mind if I get some work done in the office?”
“Why would I mind?”
“Don’t want to be a bad host.”
Resting against the arm of the couch, I like how she looks like she’s belonged here all along. I start toward the office, but stop when she says, “Jackson?” and look back.
“Yeah?”
Her voice is suddenly serious, which draws her expression down with it. “This is the part about me not wanting to be a burden on you or your life. I may not know every detail of what you do, and I actually regret and feel embarrassed about that now. I’m sorry I didn’t pay more attention or ask questions.”
“You don’t have to apologize. We all live busy lives.” I lean against the corner of the wall. “The six of us used to be inseparable, but we’ve grown up. I still consider them my family, even if we don’t see each other or talk every day. Like we talked about the other night, it’s just life happening. We either let it happen to us or we lead the charge.”
Dipping my head, I rub the back of my neck and peer at her. “I’m proud of you, Marlow.”
“Why?” The question is so genuine I’m almost surprised by it.
I join her on the couch, sitting near her feet. Taking one, I start rubbing the arch with my thumbs. “Because you’ve been going through hell and none of us knew the extent of it. You showed up. Every day. And you’re still participating like you don’t have a mountain of problems weighing you down. You’re still leading that charge, even if you don’t feel like you’re making much progress. You are.” I swap feet and continue rubbing. I see the water glistening in her eyes, and it makes me realize that I don’t think she’s been given the kinds of affirmations that matter, the ones that speak of who she is on the inside. And that’s just fucking sad.