Mr. Important (Honeybridge #2) Read Online Lucy Lennox

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Honeybridge Series by Lucy Lennox
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
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“Oh, honey, you really shouldn’t go to the event today if you’re not feeling well.”

“Uh, yeah. Um… I definitely don’t feel good. But I told my mom I’d⁠—”

“I know just where to get that done,” she said. “Send me what you need, and I’ll take care of it for you.”

Layla definitely didn’t deserve Alena.

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that. If you could just send me the info,” I croaked. “I’ll have my mom ask someone from the campaign.”

“Sure thing. I’ll shoot you an email right now. Are you going to be okay? It sucks you’re sick in a hotel all by yourself…”

“I’m going to find an urgent care place,” I told her. “If I can get some meds, maybe I can make it to tomorrow’s events.”

“Well, take care of yourself, and don’t push it. I’ll let Layla know you can’t make it today, and I’m sure she’ll be fine with it. She told me this event wasn’t that important anyway.”

Seriously? My head swam sickly, but it might have been the anger thing again. “Good to know. Thanks again for your help with the apparel place.”

After waiting a minute for her email, I forwarded it to JT, asking for more help, and then I collapsed back in the bed. JT texted a minute later to inform me that he’d ordered me a room service delivery of Gatorade, toast, and bottled water, and he’d look into the apparel place.

JT: When the order gets there, drink as much as you can and get in bed.

It wasn’t until I was falling asleep again that I wondered why he hadn’t given me the directions to the nearest urgent care I’d asked him for.

A couple of hours later, his call woke me up. “Huh?” I said.

“Hey. I got the information on the print shop for you.”

“Already?” I sounded like my tonsils had been dancing the tango with a sheet of sandpaper.

“Yup. My assistant, Alice, is in the city this week, so she volunteered to investigate.” JT snorted. “She went down to the apparel place and pretended she was PennCo’s newest, least capable employee. Said her boss wanted her to order some more Elustre gear, but she completely forgot who authorized the last batch, and could they please help her? They looked up the purchase order, and sure enough, Alena Jimenez was the contact. Any guesses who it was billed to?”

“Layla James,” I said hoarsely.

“Layla James,” JT confirmed. “And Alice got the name of the person who helped her at the printer, too. I’ll email you her name and cell number. Rea, what does this mean?”

“It means I work for a snake,” I said so forcefully it set off another round of coughing.

“Oh, man, that does not sound good,” JT said in a gentler tone.

“No kidding. I feel like dog shit.” I laid my arm over my forehead since my brain felt in danger of exploding. “I was going to go to an urgent care place, but my brother forgot to text me a location.”

“I didn’t forget,” he chided. “I did something better. I sent you help.”

“You sent someone? Here?” The sheets felt uncomfortable on my prickly skin, and I couldn’t decide if I was cold or sweaty. “If you love me at all, please tell me Mother’s not coming.”

He chuckled. “Patricia? Voluntarily playing nurse? No. She has people for that, Reagan.”

“Rosalia,” I said, blowing out a relieved breath. “I could do with some Rosalia mothering, to be honest. But I’d hate for her to get sick.”

JT’s familiar laugh was comforting. “Not Rosalia either. Don’t worry. Just get some rest.”

He ended the call before I could ask him anything else, and the ensuing coughing fit was the worst yet, leaving me gasping and sweating despite my chills.

But I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing with all this information I’d acquired. Thatcher needed to know what Layla had done. I grabbed my phone, then hesitated.

Thatcher was probably in no mood to talk to me when I still hadn’t had a chance to explain or apologize for the Brantleigh thing. And last time I’d tried to tell him about Layla, he’d refused to listen, like I’d been trying to jump the chain of command.

So, fine, then. I’d follow the chain of command. As soon as I caught my breath, I began an email to my boss.

I know who sent the shirt to Nova Davidson. I have proof. Tell Thatcher or I will.

Then, without considering the consequences, I hit Send…

And passed out.

Chapter Twenty

Thatcher

I wouldn’t say that having McGee along made flying easy, but it certainly made it better than it would have been. He sat in the seat beside me, big body blocking out the window so I could almost forget there were clouds on the other side of the shade, and made no comment when I clutched the chair arms so hard my fingers went numb. He turned his black-and purple bruised glare at any passengers foolish enough to attempt small talk. He ordered us each a mini bottle of alcohol and got me to take both. Then he secured us a rental car after landing while I tried unsuccessfully to get Reagan on the phone.


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