Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
I laugh. “If you have the means to pull that off, please take me with you. The chilaquiles on my last room service charge almost cost that much.”
That gets a smile out of her. It is a sexily wicked grin that summons up all sorts of naughty thoughts. “That’s what you get for taking the cheat’s way out. You don’t go to Mexico to eat in your room.”
She has a point, but things are different in my industry. The more time I spend indoors, the faster I can move onto my next client.
“How about we fill in a check and see how it goes? If it’s meant to be—”
“It’s meant to be,” she says at the same time.
Needing something to cover how hard her smile makes me, I walk around my sister's desk before plopping my ass into her massive leather chair. Her desk is a mess, but after a quick cleanup, I find the checkbook I’m seeking and enough space to fill it in.
“You own this restaurant?” asks the brunette, her tone high in shock.
“Not exactly.” I open the checkbook at the next available check before securing a pen. “I’m a silent investor.” I wave the pen around the mess that doesn’t reflect the luxury of the menu. “This is my sister’s brainchild.” I’m not usually so open with women I’ve just met, so after a somewhat shy smile about how quickly she’s unguarded me, I ask, “What’s the name of the business you want this made out to?”
Now it’s her turn to be shy. Her smile slips as she whispers, “Valentino’s.”
I reach the T before the entirety of her brief reply smacks into me. Then, just as dramatically, my pen falls onto the checkbook and my back slouches against the worn leather of my sister’s chair.
“Valentino’s?” I double-check, sure I’ve heard her wrong. There are a lot of famous Italian restaurants in Ravenshoe that sound similar to Valentino’s, but none with that exact title.
“Yes,” she replies, her tone lowering. “Have you heard of it before?”
“You could say that. Ah…” I cough to clear my throat from whatever the fuck is going on with it before asking, “Why do you need to attend Valentino’s?” Her hue answers my question on her behalf, not to mention her earlier comment. “Revenge.”
She sounds determined while saying, “There’s no better way to get revenge—”
“Than to sit back and do nothing.”
Her swallow is audible, but the sole sounds she makes.
Although she isn’t a client of mine, I can’t help but offer her some advice. “Showing him you don’t give a fuck will burn him more than anything. You know that, right?”
She swivels on the spot, fanning out the short hemline of her little black dress. “Yes. But…”
I wait and wait and wait for her to finalize her reply.
It is worth every damn second.
“I’m also horny. Whiskey does that to me, and then when the advertisement for Valentino’s popped up on my laptop, I thought, what the hell, I deserve a treat. It’s been months since I’ve climaxed, and they have a climax-or-don’t-pay promise.” Her dramatic exhale ruffles the strands of hair curtaining her beautiful face. “What girl wouldn’t take them up on their offer?”
“A girl who shouldn’t need to pay to get her rocks off.”
I mean my reply as a compliment, but she’s horrified by it. “Please don’t say that.” The range of her eye roll is impressive. “The last man who said that to me left me hanging… on my birthday of all days… then he let her have her way with the elves who spewed Christmas vomit over everything.” With a groan, she slumps into the chair across from me and balances her head in her hands. “This week sucks.”
As the hope on her face fades to oblivion, I mull over my reasons for not working on my home turf. It could cause more conflict than it’s worth, and it is the one place I can be myself, but can I even call it work if I volunteer my time?
People take on pro bono cases all the time, so why can’t I?
It isn’t like I’m being put off. The woman standing across from me is beautiful. I wouldn’t hesitate to take her home if I hadn’t unearthed a conflict of interest.
This goes against every rule I have, but fuck it. It’s one night, and you only live once, so I’m running with it.
“Why pay for services when you can get them for free?”
The brunette slowly lifts her head before she angles it to the side. Unlike her sexy, fuckable body, her confused expression is adorably cute. “Free? Where? The ad said services start at two-fifty, and that’ll probably only get me Bucked Tooth Bobby for a quarter of an hour. Besides, no one works for free. Not even you.”
Her smile about her witty comment slips when I ask, “Are you sure about that?” When the shock in her eyes shifts to need, I adjust the span of my thighs before tilting my pelvis forward so she can’t misinterpret what I’m saying. “And can you really call a one-night-stand work?”