Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
F waved at her to join him. “Quite a turnout, isn’t it? There are still more reporters coming in – I think you should hold a press conference. But make them promise that they’ll cover our next fundraiser first.”
“You’re so opportunistic.” But she was smiling when she said it. F was opportunistic, but then so was she.
“I have absolutely no plans arguing on that score,” F said with a wink. “That’s why I’ve got a quarter billion in my bank account.” Pulling out his pink handkerchief from the breast pocket of his shiny silver three-piece suit, F began patting his face dry of sweat.
Bobby rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you just take off your blazer?”
“And let all those gorgeous bikers see my waistline? Are you kidding me?”
“I’m pretty sure they’re all straight.”
“I’m pretty sure my money can convince them otherwise.” F glanced back at the bikers. “Ready to see the first one perform his stunt?”
Bobby nodded.
F did a little hand wave and the first biker revved his bike, the roar of its engine powerful enough to give Bobby a little shiver. There was also this tiniest twinge in her heart, a faded memory of a photo shoot where she had sat on his lap in his bike, but she shook the thought away as well.
A gust of wind hit her, and Bobby looked up just in time to see the biker speed past her, shooting up the ramp at such incredible speed she couldn’t help holding her breath like everyone as the biker soared over the ramp and drove dead center into the metal ring suspended from two steel poles.
Applause broke out as the biker made a 180-degree twist in the air to face the crowd of reporters by the time his bike hit the ground.
F let out a loud wolf whistle even as he whispered to Bobby, “This one I don’t care what he looks like. He definitely needs to be part of the front act.”
“He definitely went all out with that one,” she murmured. “Maybe the guy needs a huge backer.” Her mind was already busy going through the foundation’s list of sponsors. Maybe Kastein, Inc. would sponsor the biker if he went pro. The company’s Dutch billionaire CEO could be quite generous given the right project or beneficiary.
“Do you have his CV with you?” Bobby asked.
“It’s with Nessa.” F called their most recently recruited heiress over.
The bubbly blonde skipped to them, and Bobby couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Nessa Carmichael was already in her mid-twenties, but she still acted like a high school girl most times. “Yes, boss?”
“Bobby wants to look at the first performer’s resume.”
Dismay fell over Nessa’s face. “Oh, umm, well, you see...”
“Don’t play cute with us, Nessa. You know it won’t work.”
Nessa blurted out, “I don’t have it. He was a last minute addition, and he told me he really wanted to be a part of this so...I felt bad for him and let him audition.”
“Do you have his name at least?” Bobby asked.
Nessa nodded eagerly. “He said his name was...” Her brow furrowed. “It sounded like coffee.”
“Coffee?” F and Bobby were both bemused.
The biker who had just performed was heading towards them now, and Bobby wondered if it would be safe to accept him as part of the opening act when apparently he hadn’t gone through the foundation’s preliminary checks. Bobby liked being thorough and always requested for background checks on anyone who had business with the foundation. She didn’t want anyone with a criminal background – and that included speeding tickets – within a mile of her kids.
“Nessa, his name, please,” F said impatiently.
“I’m trying to remember it...I swear it really did sound something like coffee...”
The biker had reached them, and Bobby belated realized he was much taller than he had seemed from afar, forcing her to look up. Something about him was terribly familiar, and her heart started to beat a crazy erratic rhythm.
Surely, it couldn’t be—-
Nessa exclaimed, “I got it!” A smile broke over her face. “He said his name was kópanos.”
Bobby’s heart crashed.
The biker slowly took off his helmet.
Leandro Christopoulos smiled at her. “Hello, mégaira.”
Chapter Two
Inhale, exhale.
This time, Bobby was locked inside the private bathroom of the VIP box of the stadium, but everything else was the same. Its marble walls couldn’t mute the sound of the noise outside. Earlier, it was the roar of motorcycle engines and the clamor of the press. This time, what she heard was a mixture of laughter and chattering voices as the staff of Needs Heard mingled with the staff of the public relations department of Christopoulos, Inc.
She gave herself a Mean Look through the mirror. “You don’t love him anymore.”
But again, her heart proved stubborn as it continued to ache and bleed.
Bobby began texting.
Bobby: WTF are you?
Sabastian: Five minutes, moro mou.