Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“Usually. But not all the time,” I admit.
She raises an eyebrow. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your—”
“Jenn. He’s not my anything. A nightmare boss, yeah, but he’s not a total villain. I’m just saying.”
“Wow. You might be the first person I’ve ever heard say that.”
“People just don’t know him—”
“Like you do, right?” She grins. “Understandable.”
I kick her lightly under the table. “Since the company’s paying for this meal, can we talk about work?”
“Oh, fine. You’re no fun. Why would someone go after Winthrope reviews? How bad would he have to piss them off?” she asks.
“I did some digging last night. It’s a pretty common black hat technique called review bombing. It usually happens when there’s some kind of business policy somebody doesn’t like. The one stars just pile on, whether they’re from paid drive-bys or automated bots.”
Jennifer frowns. “I don’t think that’s the case here though—”
“Yeah. I don’t think it’s true review bombing in the usual sense, and not from somebody with a point to prove. The reviews are all over the place—they’re not policy driven—and they touch on experiences. Even if they’re totally fake. This feels too personal.”
“They are pretty detailed. Written to provoke a response,” she agrees. “Like no one who reads a review about a lady and her four-year-old getting food poisoning over nonexistent duck eggs doesn’t get upset.”
“The disgruntled employee theory... Could it be a former copywriter?”
“They’d have the skills,” she says with a nod.
“Or maybe a competitor,” I say, chewing my hash browns.
“Hmm. Which one? I wonder who else in this space feels threatened enough by Winthrope to go dark...”
“A lot of other ego freaks, I bet. Winthrope has been on top forever.”
I wish I knew more about potential suspects.
After brunch, we decide to check out reviews of the pool. It can’t compete with Lanai, but as far as sleek indoor pools go, this is gorgeous. The vivid green landscaping around it makes it look like a secluded swimming hole rather than an elegantly tiled pool, and there’s a huge fountain cascading down from a makeshift waterfall.
“Whew! It certainly does the job,” Jenn says.
“It’s a Beatrice Brandt design. Winthrope Chicago took off running the day it opened because she and her grandsons helped with the features.”
“Fancy!” Jenn beams.
We hang out by the pool for a while in the long lounge chairs, enjoying the generous sunlight streaming in through the glass until she feels like she’ll get burned if we don’t pack it in.
“Probably the least productive part of our trip, but definitely the most fun. Just wish I’d brought my swimsuit.”
Jenn smiles. “Yeah, we should get paid to hang out in the pool more often.”
After she disappears to her room, I get in the elevator and push the button for the thirty-second floor.
One floor up, Brock gets in.
I almost forget we’re not supposed to know each other.
His eyes roam my body, lingering in all the wrong places.
Fire rushes under my cheeks. I notice I’m still a little sweaty from the pool room.
His gaze burns me, urging my temperature higher.
Oh my God, this is torture.
I have to pretend not to know him—an almost impossible task.
I want to say something so bad, but it’s better I don’t with the wild directions my mind keeps spinning. I don’t breathe again until he steps off on another floor with a lingering glance that melts through my clothes.
Will he look at me with that same intensity tonight?
Will I even be able to do anything but stutter if he does?
And if he kisses me again like last night, knowing we’re alone and meeting secretly—
Yikes.
I’m so hilariously screwed.
Possibly literally.
I flop down on my bed and call Maisy to settle my jitters.
It takes a few rings before she answers.
“Hey, sis. Why aren’t you out enjoying Chicago?”
“I’m doing that tonight. How’s Dad?”
“He’s fine. He was ready to go to the game with me, but it got rained out. Then he pushed a trip to the art museum to make up for it, but I didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be fumbling around in the rain.”
“Good call, Maisy. I’m sorry you have to deal with this. Are you still hanging out with Trina?”
“Her crush from the team took her out to a movie, so all’s well that ends well.”
“Is Dad taking his medicine, though? Do either of you need anything?” I hate that even good news makes me worry.
“We’re fine, mother. Grabbing Indian food for dinner from that place you love. I’m definitely blaming you for creating a monster with Dad and his palak paneer kick.” She laughs, and so do I. “Are you okay, Pippa? You sound...off.”
Ouch.
Am I that obvious?
“It’s been a long trip. Very busy so far. It’ll be nice to just kick back and have some fun. So, if you need me, I’ll have my phone, but I might not be checking much unless it’s an emergency.”