Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Everyone is very respectful as we make our way over to the check-in desk, where they hand him a badge with his name on it and then mine with my name on it, Zoey Richards Cottrell Group.
“There might be something wrong with mine,” I tell him as we walk away, and he looks down to see. “What if they think I work for your firm and ask me banking advice?” He chuckles as he puts on his badge. “The only thing I know is you save your money.”
“Well, at least you’ve got that,” he teases as we make our way to one of the speaking events. “You’re already one foot in the door.”
“Nash, this could embarrass you and your group,” I whisper-yell at him.
“You know I own the group, right? Not one person is going to fire you.” He puts his hands in his pockets, and I notice you can see some of the outline from his chest tattoo through his shirt. “Zoey,” he says my name, “relax.”
“You telling me to relax doesn’t mean I actually relax.” I lean over and whisper in his ear without getting too close.
He puts his hand on the lower part of my back as he ushers me forward into a room where someone is speaking, so I shut up. The rest of the day is filled with speeches about what is new in banking. I literally have no idea at all what they’re saying. I try to keep up and take a couple of pictures of Nash with his clients who have come to meet him. They listen to everything he says, and he points out little things they haven’t even thought of.
The day flies by and into the night. Even the day after, it’s so much on the go I don’t see the hours go by, and finally, on the last night, I’m ready for the long vacation with my family. “Is the gala fancy?” I ask as we walk out of the hotel on the last day after the last speaker just finished presenting.
“Semi-fancy. I know lots of them are bringing their wives and stuff, so they might be dressed up,” he says, stopping when I stop.
“I need you to think back to last year and what people were wearing,” I ask him, and he shrugs. “Okay, what about the hottest girl there? What was she wearing?”
He laughs. “It was semi-formal,” he says. “Why?”
“I don’t have a semi-formal outfit,” I gasp.
“Then go get one,” he states, opening his front jacket pocket and pulling out his credit card. “Here, be ready at seven.”
“It’s four thirty,” I yelp. “And I don’t need your money.” I look around. “I’ll be ready at seven.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, go and gamble,” I say. “Put twenty on red.”
“You lost four hundred dollars doing that,” he reminds me.
“My luck is about to change,” I tell him before I turn and rush into a couple of stores, settling on a strapless, tight-fitting white lace dress. The cutouts of the dress show the white slip under it, and I pick up a pair of crystal slingbacks to complete the look. I’m just putting the finishing touches on my lips when he knocks at the door. I pull it open before I tell him, “I’m almost done.” I turn before I see what he’s wearing, but when I look over my shoulder, I can see from his eyes that he likes my outfit.
“You can’t go like that.” He points at me, and I look down at my chosen dress.
“Why not?” I smooth down the front of the dress. “It’s so pretty.”
“It’s just too much.” I look down at myself as I pick up the little clutch purse that holds my phone and lip gloss. “Ugh, it’s going to be a long night.”
I watch him turn and walk to the door, noticing he’s wearing a black suit with a matching black shirt. “I need a drink,” I finally say, “since this is officially off the clock.”
He laughs as we walk toward the gala. “People are turning their heads looking at you.”
“They are not,” I mumble as we get to the reception, where I snag a glass of champagne and take a sip, the bubbles exploding on my tongue. “Refreshing.”
“Nash.” Our heads both turn when we hear his name and see a man approaching. “I was hoping to catch you here.” He extends his hand. “I loved your speech,” he says to him, and I smile at him proudly. Even though I didn’t know what he meant, his speech was fantastic.
“Thank you,” Nash says. “This is Zoey Richards.” He turns to me, introducing me.
“Your new lady,” he says, and I shake my head.
“Not his new lady. We work together.” I smile, wondering if he’s ever brought a woman to this event.