Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“Right. Yeah. He didn’t offer us a job at his business.”
I didn’t know that. “Isn’t that what old money families do?”
“We’re only old money by West Coast standards.”
She really believes that she didn’t inherit the world.
“You think I’m a spoiled rich girl,” she says.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, I am spoiled. I complain about my sixty-thousand-dollar car all the time. I send Lexi texts when I buy something that breaks too soon. I try to buy from other start-ups, women-owned start-ups, whether they price high or low. Some have great products. Some don’t.”
“Saving the world through wardrobe upgrades.”
“Women do more than make clothes,” she says.
“Sorry. Am I a sexist asshole?”
“A little.” She lets out a soft laugh. “Beauty and clothing are big markets. And it’s easier for women to succeed there. They’re not taken seriously, but investors don’t take the categories seriously either, so.” She shrugs.
“You don’t get an advantage as Deanna Huntington?”
She pauses, then says, “I’m sure I do. But it’s not like in the movies. Dad didn’t ask me to take over the company. He made it clear I was not welcome to take over the company. I’m sure he would have found a spot, if I really needed one, and he did introduce me to a lot of people. I’m sure some of them helped because of my last name. But a lot of them ignored me because of my gender, too.”
“I can’t imagine that.”
“Because you’re not a woman,” she says.
“I can’t imagine anyone not seeing the sheer strength of your will,” I clarify.
Her cheeks flush. “Apparently, it’s easy to miss.”
That’s not possible. She radiates strength, power, grace.
“When I was younger, people assumed I was another trust fund baby. They thought I was killing time until I inherited a fortune.”
“Did he help with the company?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “He said we needed to try doing something on our own. Maybe he’d bail us out if we really needed it. I don’t think so. I think he’d want us to learn from our failure.”
“I can’t see that.”
“You don’t know him,” she says. “He’s got a hard-knock-life side.”
“No ponies?” I joke.
“Where would I ride a pony?” She laughs. “Do you see me as that much of a cliché?”
“I thought you lived a charmed life, sure, but I knew you worked at it, too.” I ignored it sometimes because it reminded me of how hard I worked at everything. Because she made the work look effortless, and I felt like I was trying all the time. “I can’t imagine you killing time. Dominating time, maybe.”
She blushes.
My cock stirs. It’s sexy, yes, but more than that, it’s adorable. Tough as nails, always in control Deanna, blushing at my words.
She’s beautiful. I didn’t expect that to move me as much as it does. I didn’t expect to find her as sexy as I do.
But I really didn’t expect to feel this pull toward her. To want to hear her laugh again and again. To crave the sight of her smile. To adore the flush of her cheeks.
I want to make her blush again and again.
For hours.
For days.
I want to be the one who can knock this strong, confident woman off balance. I want to see her find her center again. I want to watch her grow.
“I didn’t mean that.” Sort of.
“Dirty mind.”
“Really?”
“You’ve never noticed?” she asks.
“Not until recently.”
“Telling a guy you tied up your ex tends to do that.”
“Has it come up with other men?” I ask.
“On dates, yeah,” she says. “I go out all the time for the app.”
My stomach churns. I don’t like the mental image of her with some guy in a suit, leaning in to whisper, I can do a lot with that tie. You want to go to my place and find out?
It’s a ridiculous image. It’s not her at all. But I can’t rid myself of the picture.
Deanna, with some tech billionaire, making out in the elevator to his penthouse, lying in bed after athletic sex, bonding over the difficulties of running a company.
She notices my distaste. “I don’t throw it out there on the first date. ‘By the way, my ex was kinky.’ But it comes up sometimes on the second or third date.”
“You’re going on second and third dates?”
“A few times,” she says.
“Do you sleep with those guys?”
“Softballs, huh?”
“The balls maybe.”
She laughs. “You sound like Lexi.” At the mention of her sister, she loses all the brightness in her expression. It’s like she suddenly remembers why we’re here, that I’m meant to be with Lexi.
It doesn’t feel as obvious as it normally does.
I tell myself this is a physical reaction, that’s all, but I don’t quite believe it. And I don’t know how to feel about that.
“I’m not going to judge you for it,” I say.
“I know. You wouldn’t adore Lexi if you judged women for sleeping around.” She swallows a sip of tea. “No. I haven’t slept with any of them. Not because I’m following some sort of rule.”