Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
* * *
Twenty minutes later, my announcement was over.
I was officially working for Kensington Corporation. I’d shackled myself to my father’s legacy. Bound myself to this life, as if signing a contract with the Devil himself.
Afterward, everyone congratulated me as if I’d done something heroic. Instead of just rejoining a company that I’d avoided like the plague for the last five years. We might be spinning the story to say that I was some golden boy or that I’d returned to my destiny. But I didn’t believe in destiny or fate or any of that nonsense. If I did, then I probably deserved to be six feet under, just like him.
My mother reached for me as soon as it was over. She patted my shoulder. It felt like her version of motherly affection. “Congratulations, Court. What a great speech.”
My mouth went dry, but I stood strong and imperious. “It was time to take back the mantle.”
It was a lie. We both knew that I was only doing this because of Jane’s trial. But I seemed to be the only one who remembered or cared.
“This will be a wonderful new direction for the company. I look forward to seeing the budding future,” she said.
English slipped through the row of sycophants and to my side. Her hand grazed mine in comfort and acknowledgment. She put herself between me and the rest of them. Even between me and my mother. Something my mother noted with clear disapproval. But this was what she’d hired English for. To make me look good and to protect me. My mother had probably never envisioned that English would be there to protect me from her.
“What a great announcement. So excited that this is going to be out in the world,” English said smoothly. “Now, I’m going to get my client out of here. He’s had a long day.” She whirled on me. “Court.”
I nodded. “Yes, it’s time.”
I shook hands with the few closest men. I smiled at my mother, who looked like she wanted to shake me, tell me that I had to stay and schmooze these men and then hopefully knock some sense into me. But English was giving me an out, and I had every intention of taking it.
Neither of us spoke. Not in the hallway on the top floor of the company. Not in the elevator or through the lobby or out the front door. She didn’t say a word until we got into the black car she’d secured for the last few days.
“It worked,” she whispered. Her perfectly straight-backed posture evaporated, and she sighed in relief. “It worked.”
“Don’t you think that’s yet to be seen?”
She had her eyes closed and was slouched back in the car. She shook her head. “No. I can just tell.”
“How?”
“Years of experience,” she murmured.
“Well, that’s a relief.” I loosened the tie at my throat and then pulled the damn thing off, chucking it across the car. Next came my jacket. I tossed it onto the floor without care. Then, I popped the buttons of my sleeves and began to roll them up to my elbows.
English’s eyes were open now and watching me. Those bright blue eyes scouring my skin.
“What now? Are you dropping me off at my place?” I asked her. “What are you doing for labor day weekend?”
Her lips pulled down at the question. It made me think that she must have originally had plans with that cheating douchebag husband of hers before it all came out.
“Nothing,” she finally said. “Lark said I could meet them in the Hamptons if I wanted, but I think something serious is going on. Something with the crew, and I don’t know all about it. I’m welcome, but I’m not welcome.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
She shrugged and pushed back into a respectable seat. “We are going to go get a drink.”
I arched an eyebrow. “We are, huh?”
“Yes, after everything we just went through, I think we could both use a big fucking drink. Like giant house margaritas.” She tipped her head back. “Fuck, I used to go to this place down the street from my place in LA when I was underage. The place made the best margs this side of Mexico. Tequila and cocaine and lots of stupid, stupid behavior.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “You did cocaine?”
She grinned sheepishly, her eyes meeting mine again. “Well, I wasn’t a saint. Gave it up around the time I started working for Poise. But sometimes, it’s still hard around clients. It was a way of life. Drugs, sex, and rock and roll. A total cliché. I was so Hollywood.”
“Little Miss Anna English,” I said in disbelief. “I never would have guessed.”
“I’m an enigma. I bet you still do cocaine,” she said with no accusation in her voice.
“Sometimes. The Upper East Side has its drugs, sex, and rock and roll, too.”