Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Be the picture of desire, utterly unmissable in a space full of powerful men, but to get the attention of the one you want, pretend you’re not the baddest bitch in the room when, little does he know, you are more than he could handle on his best day. Smile shy, gasp when he accidentally grazes your skin, and fake a flush when his eyes tell you he’s envisioning you bent over his bed.
Sadly, it really is so simple, and my nympho friend is a master of the craft—something the women positioned beside the hedgehogs, dying for five minutes alone with B, hate. Especially since she spent the last two days memorizing every detail and running numbers related to their corporation. She’s full of stats and ideas and fake-ass fascination for their mildly performing, highly unstimulating pharmaceutical corporations—it always pays to have a photographic memory.
She’s dazzling them with digits and details, making them wish the women on their arms stayed home tonight. As predicted, the women don’t want to stand beside a woman more brilliant than them, so when the brunette server passes by the very next moment, without pausing beside them, they follow her toward the open bar.
Delta’s eyes breeze past mine at that moment, and then she weaves right as I move left. At the last second, she turns, smiling at a random person as she shuffles forward, her elbow nudging Bronx in the back.
B falls into the tall, blond man in front of her with a gasp, and his eager palms clasp her forearms in an instant, steadying her against her chest.
Her chin dips, eyes flicking up to his, and I almost let a laugh slip as I use the slim space now present between the other men, who instantly shuffled back at the sound of B’s gasp.
My chest brushes one, and I smile at him. “Excuse me.”
I ease through the small space, tucking my champagne flute closer to my chest.
The man smiles, opening his mouth to speak, but I curve behind him, and he doesn’t care enough to spin away from Bronx completely.
“Think they’ve already placed bets on who she leaves with tonight?” Delta whispers when she falls in line beside me in the hall.
Tucking the man’s wallet into the sleeve of my dress, I smirk. “Blondie most definitely believes it’s him.”
Pulling two giant diamond bands from the edge of her bra, Delta passes one to me with a raised brow. “If he keeps looking at her like he is, he might be.”
The both of us laugh under our breath, slip the rings on our ring fingers, and curve into the lounge.
Cedar and ambrosia swirl in my senses, the first indication we’ve found what we’re looking for, exactly where we knew we’d find it. Cigar after cigar sends steady streams of smoke into the air, eye after eye falling to our left hands as we pass through the men’s only section of the place, quickly dismissing our presence with a single glance, just in case we “belong” to a man at their table, let alone one they’re attempting to get to open their wallets after tonight’s networking is complete.
Delta winks and I shift slightly, walking backward as I speak to her, my arms bent at my sides as I extend my hands outward. “It was quite entertaining. I—” My arm bumps into a hard body, the liquid in my glass sloshing over the rim, and I jolt, my free hand coming up to my mouth as I spin.
“My apologies,” I rush out, glancing around for a waitress.
Shiny brown hair is at my side in a moment. “Here we are.” She offers the man a dry cloth, passing one to me as well.
“Sir.” I shake my head. “I’m so sorry. Please, allow me to have it cleaned?”
The man, also known as Jacobi Randolph, owner and CEO of Randolph Investments, dabs at his jacket before simply tossing the towel and peeling it from his body. “Now that won’t be necessary, mis …” His eyes roam over my body as he hangs his jacket over the nearest chair.
Pretending to tuck a loose strand of hair back … with the ring-adorned hand, I smile. “Mrs. Brown, sir.”
His smirk slips oh so quickly, replaced by poorly concealed annoyance. “It’s all right, Mrs. Brown. I’ll survive.” He nods toward someone over my shoulder, and a moment later, an elderly man steps up beside me with a warm smile.
“Sorry, miss, but this is the men’s only lounge. If you exit through the side doors there, you’ll find a connecting hall that will lead back to the main floor.”
“Oh! How silly of us. We didn’t realize.”
“Have a nice night, ladies.” Randolph ‘excuses’ us, arm swinging out as if to point us toward the hall leading back into the main area before turning back to his friends.