Sydney Read Online Jordan Silver (Babysitter’s Club #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Babysitter's Club Series by Jordan Silver
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Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Babysitter's Club Sydney

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Jordan Silver

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B07F8L6MLW
Book Information:

When I was only thirteen my life was turned upside down. My father had an affair, mom lost her mind and was shut away in an asylum and I was passed off to an old aunt. Now eight years later, I'm seeking vengeance against the one who brought my world crushing down. It's only fair don't you think? Let's see how she likes her cushy little life being disrupted by someone younger, prettier....
Books in Series:

Babysitter's Club Series by Jordan Silver

Books by Author:

Jordan Silver Books



Sydney

Dear diary, today’s the day. I’ve been planning this for a long time now as you know, and have finally found my chance. If all goes well, I can finally put the past to rest and move on with my life, whatever that may be.

Only you know what this means, and why I have to do it, along with all that I’ve already done. I can’t stay long now. He’ll be here soon to pick me up. I’ll get back to you later and let you know how my first day went…PS. Wish me luck…

I stood in front of the full length mirror and fixed myself for the one hundredth time. I looked just the way I wanted to. Light blonde hair pulled back in a dull bun with enough muck to discolor it, no threat.

Horn rimmed glasses to hide the luster of my odd colored jewel toned amethyst eyes. No I’m not an albino, neither am I suffering from some genetic disease.

It’s just a quirk of fate I guess, since neither of my parents have this color eyes, or anyone else on either side of the family for that matter. It’s the same with my hair. My dad used to tease that I was a throwback to a great-great somebody in the past.

The simple button down shirt with a tight fitting vest beneath did much to hide my bountiful assets. Another quirk, I have quite large tits for my small frame. They’ve been a source of constant turmoil, until now.

The skirt I chose came down to well below the knee and was a little too wide in the hips. Think schoolmarm if you will. The ballet flats were too low for me, I’m much more comfortable in heels. But that would defeat the whole purpose now wouldn’t it?

I smoothed my hand over my hair one last time, and fixed the store bought glasses in place so that they looked more natural and not like the prop that they were.

Even though I’d foregone makeup for just a swipe of gloss over my pouty lips, there wasn’t much I could do to hide my beauty. Oh well, I tried.

My prominent cheekbones and alabaster skin, the naturally pink lips that forever looked like they’d been kissed, and the cute little mole that sits just at the edge of my top lip all came together to make what I’ve heard described as a masterpiece.

It’s a beauty that I’ve had very little uses for, again until now. While others focused and got hung up on my looks, it was my mind I was more interested in. More specifically, honing it like a sharp weapon.

With one last look I accepted that there wasn’t much more I could do to hide what my face showed to the world. Oh well, at least I’d played it down some.

Turning back to the bed I grabbed the ratty old second hand suitcase that was nothing like my usual set of luxury luggage, but again suited my purpose, before leaving the room and heading down the stairs.

My heart raced with last minute jitters, which I mercilessly squelched. There was no room for panic or second guessing, this is something I had to do. A debt owed I guess you can say.

I sat on the little porch of the cute Victorian boarding house that had seen much better days as I waited for him to pull up. I wasn’t going to miss anyone I’d met here, because I never took the time to get to know them. That’s not my style and never was.

Entanglements and associations just tend to get in the way of my goal, so I’ve learned to live without them. Maybe after this is all done and I put it behind me, that would change.

My heart did another one of those rolling things in my chest when I saw his town car turn onto the street. That was an unexpected blip that I still have to work on.

With my inexperience I’m finding it hard, but I’ve never let myself be defeated by anything before and I won’t start now. Though I have yet to find a way to quiet the butterflies in my stomach.

I never once expected to feel anything, why would I? It’s been years since I’ve felt anything close to an emotion. And the fact that it was he making me feel, I see as some sort of Freudian complex.

I got to my feet just as the car came to a stop at the curb. Without a backward glance at the old broken down boarding house that I will never see again, I made my way down the front steps to the waiting car.

The driver held the door open for me before taking my luggage and helping me in. I appreciated the fact that he ignored me, wrote me off as nothing special.


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