Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
She scratched her head and ran her finger along the silky material. To the left of the dress was a simple necklace with a diamond pendant. To the right, a diamond tennis bracelet and small diamond stud earrings. On the floor sat a pair of black Jimmy Choo heels, size 9. When she reached for the dress to pick it up from the bed, she noticed a black bra and panties, too. Satin with black lace trim. She touched her neck. Caressed it. A knot caught in her throat.
She went to the door and sounded the buzzer.
“Archer.”
“…Yeah?”
“What is this?”
“What is what?”
She huffed, sick of his shit already. Rolling her eyes, she placed her hand on her hip and shifted her weight. “The dress. The clothes. What’s going on?”
“We’re going out to dinner. To a restaurant.”
“And you want me to put these on?”
“No. Those clothes are just for decoration. I want you to stare at ’em, then put on your overalls and flip-flops instead. The fuck? Of course I want you to put them on.”
She glanced at the bed again, then back to the buzzer, ready to say something else—but she let it go. Minutes later, she was dressed, sitting at the vanity trying to do something with her hair. That was when she noticed her makeup had been removed from her luggage bag and set out on the vanity, in addition to a new bottle of perfume that she hadn’t brought… one she’d never seen before. She reached for it and removed the top to give it a sniff. She then read the label: Baccarat Rouge 540 Eau de Parfum. After spritzing it behind her ears and along her collarbones, she suddenly paused and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her stomach clenched and pulse raced. Her mind was in a tangle. She got to her feet to ring the buzzer and tell him she wasn’t in the mood to go out, when suddenly she noticed something. The door was slightly ajar…
She stood there staring at it for a long while, riddled with questions. Choices. Chances. She made her decision. She pressed her finger on the buzzer.
“Archer.”
“…Yeah?”
“I’m ready.”
“Okay. Come to me.” Her heart rate quickened even more. The door being open was a test. I passed.
“Where?”
“Follow the rose petals…”
She opened the door the rest of the way and peeked out. All the way up the hall was a trail of white, black, and red rose petals, as far as the eye could see…
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The rose petals led to the open front door, where Archer’s running car awaited. She had no clue as to where they were going, and he offered no information. Ahhh, a restaurant…
When they were seated in a private corner in the back of the posh Japanese restaurant, she gathered the heavy canvas menu in her hands and scanned it. Half of the items were written in Japanese. Her hand was shaking, but she tried to steady her nerves. Mind over matter. Something so ordinary felt so… strange. This entire situation jarred her and yet, it also made sense.
She looked across the table at him. Archer was adjusting his watch and studying their surroundings. He’d removed his black jacket—slung it over the chair—and was dressed in a crisp white shirt, black and white striped silk tie, and black dress pants. His clothing was costly, she could tell by the weave of the fabric and small details, and yet it also appeared unassuming. He looked amazing and smelled even better.
A silver ring with an arrow design adorned his right hand, and diamonds sparkled from his watch. He ordered them a bottle of wine and appetizers of pickled cucumbers with soy sauce and Onigiri. She studied his movements, and his eye contact. He stared at her quite often, but offered few words.
“Do you know what you’re getting?” he asked after a short while.
“Yes. I’m going to get the, Oyakodon (親子丼).”
Moments later, their orders had been taken and she focused on the small flickering white candle sitting between them. Should I make a wish? She sipped her wine sparingly. After a while, he leaned forward, his hands clasped. He cocked his head to the side and smiled at her.
“What?”
“You look beautiful.”
“…Thank you.” She took another taste of those crushed grapes. And then another.
“You asked me a few days ago about why I hated the press,” he said, straightening out the linen on the table as soft Japanese music played.
“Yeah, I did.”
“I don’t want to ruin our night, but I’ve decided to tell you.”
“Why now?”
“Because I’ve had time to think. To process some things. You see, you made a mistake.”
“I’ve heard that from a few people over the course of these last few months.”
He smirked at that, and nodded. “Well, then it isn’t any surprise to you. You stumbled onto my property, mistake number one, but not with ill intent. Regardless, the damage was done. You took photographs and were planning to share them. That was mistake number two and three. I made a mistake, too, and assumed the worst of you. I have my reasons. I don’t regret confronting you though.” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t regret doing what I felt I needed to do, to protect myself, my employees, and my company. I do regret the way I did it though.” He swallowed.