Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Maria seems worried. That’s never a good sign. Fantastic. All the energy I’ve put into convincing myself that I’m being ridiculous evaporates.
“What’s wrong?” I reach for her hand. This dread I’m having is exhausting, and my head is pounding.
“You just stay in your room and study, okay?” Her voice sounds harsh as she squeezes my hand back.
Okay, this is absurd. I’m a grown woman. I refuse to be any more uncomfortable than I already am.
I clear my throat and recross my legs, preparing to tell Maria that it’s summertime and I’m not spending two-and-a-half months hiding in a room.
Instead, I squeeze her hand back, smile, and say, “Of course. Trust me, Maria, no one will even know I’m there.”
JETT
Beverly Hills, CA
“Christ.” Although it’s scorching hot, I still went for a run. Now I’m trying to catch my breath. After placing my thumb on the scanner to open my gate, I stretch and admire the backyard.
“Hi, Mr. Powers.” My head gardener smiles at me.
“Max.” I nod.
He motions to the other gardeners to stop working as I pass. Thank fuck, because the noise from those blowers is making my head go from dull ache to full-on pounding.
Cracking my neck as I walk up the steps, I glance around at my huge backyard. Six months ago, I had it completely torn up and made drought efficient. Hired the best landscape architect, who removed almost all the grass. I live in Los Angeles, we’re in a drought, and I’m sick of being a drain on the water supply. Now it’s covered with desert rocks, succulents, and drought-resistant flowers. I had a huge outdoor kitchen and bar built to the left by my pool, which I decided to leave. I use it, and the tile in it was hand-painted by a famous artist in the 1950s. Hundreds of tiny bistro lights hang over it, and several cabana-style couches complete the look.
Too bad I’m the only one who sees it. I don’t think Rachel has been back here unless it’s to sneak a cigarette. I have no idea why she thinks she’s hiding that disgusting habit. It’s not like I don’t have a nose and security cameras.
Yeah, I need to throw a party. What’s the point of having an incredible house if you don’t show it off?
“Hot out. Right, Mr. Powers?” Max smiles again, adjusting his straw hat over his eyes.
I grin at him. He’s probably the same age as me, although the sun has taken a toll on him. Max has worked for me for over ten years. He shows up on time, always seems happy, and loves his family. Last week after my run, he showed me a bunch of pictures on his phone of his granddaughter.
“Should have done laps this morning,” I say, running my hand through my hair, which is starting to curl from sweat.
“Yeah.” He nods as if that is obvious, and I almost laugh.
My theory was I needed to sweat out the poisons, though that’s BS. If my day wasn’t packed, I’d have Sam come over and give me an IV full of electrolytes and fluids. But I’m needed in court in two hours, and after that I’m meeting some of my Harvard buddies for dinner.
“You take care, Max. If you need water, you know where it is.” I motion with my head toward my pool house.
“Thanks, Mr. Powers. See you next week,” he calls out, but I’m already entering through the French doors, tugging up the bottom of my T-shirt to wipe my face and let the air conditioner do its magic. I make my way toward the kitchen. I’ll down a few cans of Still water. Not as good as the hangover infusion, but it will have to do.
Fucking Governor Dorsey. He knew as soon as he brought out his private stock of twenty-three-year-old Pappy Van Winkle bourbon I wasn’t going to say no. I sat and drank the nectar, then indulged in Cuban cigars, as the politically entitled tried to convince me that my future lies in politics.
It doesn’t.
No matter how many times I tell everyone this, they seem to keep hoping. I’m not naïve. They know I have the stomach to fight dirty. And we need that in a candidate. Someone who will go toe-to-toe with the most corrupt. Unfortunately for them, my passion lies in what I already do.
I’m the best defense attorney in the United States, and I love the law. What other occupation lets you argue your idea and win?
I’m a master at making people bow to my words, twisting the truth to get my way. Christ, I just got a Disciple off for triple murder charges. The man was the enforcer, part of the infamous one percent MC. Not only did I get him acquitted, but at the end of the day, the Disciples also looked like heroes.