Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“Your famous boyfriend’s wife found out about the two of you and created a shitstorm in the press. Yeah, I remember what was going on in your life even when mine was falling apart. I was there for you—”
“And I’ll regret it for the rest of my life that I wasn’t there for you.” She reaches for my hand across the table. “But if you give me the chance, I will be here for you. Let me be your best friend again.”
I pull my hand away. “You’ve got a long way to go before I’d ever consider you a friend, let alone a best friend.”
She nods. “I understand.”
Our meals arrive, but I can barely eat. The air between us is strained.
“So tell me about Massimo De Kysa. You two were looking very cozy at the gala the other night.”
“We’re just friends,” I lie.
“He doesn’t look at you like a friend. He looks at you like he wants to eat you.” She takes a sip of her wine. “And you look at him like you want to be eaten.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. “Hardly.”
“I could think of worse things.”
“What about you?” I ask, changing the subject. Because I don’t want to share anything about Massimo with her. “Are you still dating that Greek tycoon?”
She grins over her glass of wine. “Gregor. Yes, and he’s the most perfect man ever. How did you know about him?”
“I saw it on one of the gossip pages a few weeks ago.” When I say it, I suddenly realize I haven’t looked at any of the online gossip pages since.
Because none of that matters to you anymore.
“You’d love him, Bianca,” Jules gushes. “He’s sweet and kind and—”
“Loaded.” The word slips out.
Jules’s eyes narrow for a split second. “It’s not like that.”
“Of course, I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
She relaxes. “I think I’m in love with him.”
My eyes dart to hers. “Really, that’s wonderful.”
Jules had the worst upbringing. A drunk mom and an even drunker father. Everyone thought their murder-suicide was a tragedy. But not Jules. She confided in me once that she was relieved her father did it because she hated her parents toxic relationship and what they used to do to each other when fueled by alcohol. It was a loveless childhood. So to hear she’s finally found someone makes me… happy?
I’m surprised because it’s true. I’m really happy for her.
Is it possible I can forgive her?
As if reading my mind, she reaches for my hand again, and this time, I don’t pull it away.
“I’m going to prove to you that you can trust me again,” she says. “Whatever it takes, I’ll show you that I’d do anything for you.”
35
BIANCA
I leave dinner and take a cab back to Lair because I have a nine p.m. peep show with the mysterious client. It’s eight o’clock when I arrive, and the club is starting to fill up. Natalie and Elsa are being slammed behind the bar, so I step in to help.
“Your date didn’t go well then,” Natalie says, brushing past me to grab a bottle of tequila.
“It went okay,” I reply, shoveling ice into two glasses. “I’m still in two minds.”
“Well, you know where to find me if you need someone to bounce her out of your life.”
Natalie moves away to pour the shots of tequila, and Elsa steps in beside me to use the soda tap. “Thanks for helping out.”
“The new girl didn’t work out?” I ask, sliding two whiskeys and ice across the bar to the customer, a famous country music singer. She hands me her card to pay for the drinks.
“You didn’t hear?” Elsa says, running a customer’s card through the card machine. “Massimo fired her this afternoon.”
“He fired her, why?”
“He didn’t fire her,” Natalie says, walking past to get some limes. “She quit.”
Elsa leans close so only I can hear. “Apparently she hit on him in his office. Took her clothes off and everything.”
“Wait, what? I’ve only been gone a couple of hours.”
“She’s been lusting after him for weeks,” Elsa adds. “Finally made her play for him.”
Natalie leans in too. “Crashed and burned, though.”
We all return to our customers, but I’m stunned by the possessiveness I feel when I imagine the new girl taking off her clothes and offering Massimo whatever it was she was offering him. So the moment it gets quiet in the bar, I head for his office.
He’s sitting behind his desk and I lean against the doorframe, watching him. God, he’s so handsome.
“If you linger in that doorway much longer, I’m going to have to start charging you rent,” he says, not looking up.
I walk in and approach his desk. But I don’t say anything. I’m too busy admiring the way he looks. He’s discarded his suit jacket over the back of the chair, and his white shirt is open enough that I can see the top of the tattoos on his chest. His long lashes fan his high cheekbones as he reads whatever it is in front of him on the desk.