Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Grandpop says, “Go home, Ford. Since when did you wrestle with morality? Boy, if you’re going to run the Arc family, you’re going to need to toughen yourself up. Consider this a test of your abilities. Come through for me and you will run the family. Don’t let me down.”
Grandpop hangs up and I’m alone in the hotel room.
What the hell am I doing? When did I become this person? I throw my phone onto the bed and slam my fist down onto the nightstand. Why the fuck am I hesitating, even now, even knowing that I’m going to do this whether it feels good or not?
Kat is nothing to me. I have to keep repeating it, over and over, until it becomes true.
She’s just a girl. She’s nothing compared to getting what I want.
Coming home early, I text to her as I crawl into bed. Tomorrow morning.
Only one day? Couldn’t stay away, could you? It’s my wit and charm, she sends back.
I text, I was feeling hungry for a little shark soup, actually. I hear there’s an infestation in our bed.
What a shame, the sharks just turned into starving piranha. Feel free to go jump in and go swimming!
I smile to myself, but the smile slowly fades.
Don’t get attached. Don’t think she’s funny.
I toss my phone aside and roll over.
Chapter 15
Kat
It does not feel good when your fiancé runs away on a “business trip” the morning after you two get intimate for the first time.
Well—we sort of got intimate. It was as intimate as I’ve ever been, anyway, and I woke up feeling vulnerable and scared and weirdly excited, and all those feelings were thrown head first into a concrete wall when he went running off to Chicago.
So I did what any self-respecting girl would do.
I went to the nearest high-end furniture boutique and spent a lot of his money.
Now granted, he basically told me to do that, and it’s not like I bought stuff I hated just because it was expensive—I have to live with my choices after all—but I might’ve opted for the pricier version whenever I was trying to choose between two things.
And that’s how Ford comes home to an apartment filled with boxes, strewn with half-assembled chairs and tables, tchotchkes and decorations tossed all over the counters and stacked on top of shelves, and the place basically looking like a total disaster, with me standing in the middle of it, drinking my morning coffee and trying to decide what the hell to do.
He pauses in the foyer and stares around. I glance over my shoulder and try not to smile at the look on his face. It’s pure astonishment.
“You got all this… in one day?”
“Paid extra for delivery.”
“You could’ve paid for assembly too.”
I tilt my head and give him my best confused grin. “But I have a husband for that, silly.”
He laughs softly and shakes his head. “We’re not married yet.” And disappears upstairs to the bedroom to shower and unpack.
Yeah, okay, that’s true and somewhat fair, but he’s still building all this crap. I watch him go and try to read his mood but it’s impossible. I even tried to be a little bit flirty via text the night before but didn’t get much in return, but maybe I’m not very good at flirting, and maybe he just doesn’t care about me beyond what I can do for his career or whatever. I wish he’d tell me what the hell he’s thinking, but Ford’s going to withhold that forever and I’m going to be left second-guessing and reading between the lines and that doesn’t feel great.
“I’m heading to work,” I call out as I finish my coffee. “I really hope everything’s assembled when I get home later today!”
“Don’t bet on it,” he says back and comes halfway down the steps. He’s shirtless and the sight of his chest makes my heart skip a beat. “Unless you want to bribe me for my time.”
“Bribe you… how?”
“One picture.” His smirk is devilish and I feel my pulse hammering. “You know the kind of picture I want.”
“You seriously run away to Chicago the night after we—” I can’t say what we did out loud and I stumble on past it feeling flushed and silly. “—And you have the nerve to ask for—that?”
“It’s my one requirement. And I didn’t run away, I had business.”
“Yeah, sure you did. Well, I am absolutely not sending you a sexy photo.”
“Then I am absolutely not putting together all this crap.” He disappears back into the room.
“You’re a pig, you know that?”
“And I want to see you in the bathroom of your work, blushing and feeling filthy, with your shirt pulled up over those lovely tits. Don’t half-ass it either, Katherine.”
I bite my lip and turn on my heel, both furious and turned on. What is with this guy? He disappears for a day after that night and seems like he’s trying to avoid me, but the second he sees me again he’s asking for dirty pictures like a horny teenage boy as if that’s totally sane and rational.