Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
I wondered how long this conversation would take. I needed to do my stretches and run a few miles before dinner.
She toyed with the simple Chanel necklace resting between her collarbones. “Look, I’m sure you’re a lovely girl, who will make someone very happy. But that someone isn’t my son.”
The cold bit into my flesh like a ravenous animal.
I arched a brow, hoping to end this before I succumbed to frostbite. “You do know I spent the entire day cleaning his toilets, right? Not pole dancing on his Greek columns.”
“French, not Greek.” Her nostrils flared. “Nevertheless, you need to quit.”
“Maybe.” I walked around the Maybach to my Prius, tossed my backpack into the passenger seat, and opened the driver’s side. “But I need the money more.”
And all the help Zach promised would come along with it.
“I’ll write you a check.”
She slammed my door before I could slip in, plastering herself against the rusted metal. Her toned figure barely covered a fraction of it.
A ridiculous thought entered my head—how could something so small birth someone so big?
Constance stretched her arms wide, blocking me. “Name your price.”
“That’s the thing.” I folded my arms over my chest. “My integrity doesn’t come with a price tag.”
That was rich, considering what I’d done to get myself kicked out of competitive fencing, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Your integrity will come with a price tag if it ensures my son’s happiness.” She tipped her chin up, refusing to move. “And there is nothing more important to me than his joy.”
Wow. Okay.
I’d tried to be polite, but she’d shattered my patience.
The knots in my back taunted me. I didn’t need to deal with her son’s demands and hers, too.
For once, I wanted to be the sword, not the fencer.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” I brought a hand to my chest, brows furrowed in mock sorrow. “I caught him in his closet after his date, crying into a bottle of champagne. Poor guy. Seems to have truly lost it. Vomited all over a brand-new Armani suit.”
The astonishment on her face practically pried her jaw off its hinges. I glanced around, wondering how Zach planned on destroying my life if his mother died of a heart attack right here.
She snapped her jaw shut. “I want you out of his house and away. Do not be ridiculous. Take the money and go.”
On cue, her driver lowered the window on our side, handing her a checkbook.
I reached into the Maybach to pet her dogs. One rested its front paws on my hand, licking my fingers and wrist. “Two million dollars.”
I didn’t know where the number came from. It seemed obscene. But it wasn’t like she didn’t have that kind of money.
I bet her freaking sneakers cost more.
“You cannot be serious.” She waved at the pup, shooing it away from me.
Apparently, it wasn’t just Zach I wasn’t good enough for.
“I accept cash and Bitcoin only. Wouldn’t want the feds to take their forty percent.” I straightened, gesturing to my Prius. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Constance Sun glanced at her Apple watch, shook her head, and stared up at the sky, which had decided to sprinkle rain onto this already miserable encounter. “One-point-five.”
Oh my God.
She was serious.
“Two million, or you’ll have to suffer through sharing a dinner table with me every Thanksgiving.” I grinned. “I’ll buy you the ugliest sweaters for Jesus’ b-day.”
“We’re atheists.”
“I’m not. Zach will respect my religion.” I cocked my head to the side. “Are you a small or extra-small? And do you prefer space pizzas or Christmas lights?”
Panic skated over her face.
She’d actually taken me seriously.
“Fine. Fine. Bitcoin.”
I was momentarily speechless.
She wanted to give me two million dollars to quit?
A part of me—a big part—wanted to take it.
But another part told me Zach had offered something far more precious than cash. The most talented, connected lawyers and private investigators and unlimited resources to get to the bottom of what happened to Dad.
“Actually.” I scrunched my nose. “I think I’ll stick around, after all. Nothing like a job that gives you a bit of gossip.”
Her hand flew to her chest.
It took everything not to burst into laughter. Rich people weren’t used to being rejected, especially after flaunting their money.
If she’d approached me politely, without condescension and cruel assumptions, I might have said yes.
But we’d never know now.
“This isn’t over.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Mrs. Sun.” I drew out the words, maintaining eye contact. “You won’t bully me into submission.”
She pinned me with a look before disappearing as fast as she’d come.
Sensing something—someone—I twisted my head, looking up to the grand bay windows of Zach’s manor.
He stood there, staring out the glass. At me.
Our gazes tangled.
His didn’t waver.
I’m not going to back down, my eyes said.
He smiled, and I could almost hear the word on his lips.
Good.
Ari:
How was your first day?