Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“A couple of the brothers are driving us,” I reply with a shrug. “And I’m sure Vaughn will have security follow us, knowing him.”
“Wait. You’re getting me off-topic. We did all this work today,” she continues as she helps me clean up some of the mess from cooking, “and not one time did you tell me about Ike and how good he is in bed.”
“I’m not telling you that,” I reply at last and turn to frown at my friend. “He’s…different. Not just a fling. And I think it’s disrespectful to talk about our sex life with anyone. Not because I don’t trust and love you, but because I want to keep our intimacy between the two of us.”
She blinks at me, and then a smile spreads over her pretty face. “You’re in love.”
“Stop it.” I shake my head and go back to loading the dishwasher. “I’m just not a college kid anymore who thinks it’s funny to trade sex stories, that’s all. If I found out he was spilling details to his football buddies, I’d be hella pissed off.”
She tips her head from side to side, thinking it over. “Okay, I can see that. Just tell me one thing.”
“No.”
“Is it good?” she asks, relentlessly. “Like, on a scale of one to ten?”
I stare down at the glass mixing bowl in my hands and bite my lip before looking back up at Becs. “There’s not a number high enough, Becs.”
“Holy. Shit.” She pretends to faint against the kitchen island dramatically and then busts up with giggles. “It’s about damn time you had a hot man rock your world.”
“Oh, he’s rocking it all right. He’s doing a good job of that.”
We laugh again and then finish loading the dishwasher and starting it before packing up some leftovers for her to take home.
“I’ll have videos edited and ready for you to post to social media by Friday,” she promises. “Photos by tomorrow morning.”
“I appreciate it.” I lean in to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for being happy for me and not a jealous bitch.”
“I mean, I can be a jealous bitch on occasion,” she replies and wrinkles her nose. “But not over this. You deserve to be happy, whether that’s with a hot quarterback or by yourself. Just be happy, Soph.”
“I am.” I walk her to the door. “I’m really happy right now.”
“Good. Okay, have a good one, and I’ll see you in a few days.”
“See you.”
I close the door behind her and grab a protein drink on the way to my office so I can fire up the computer and get to work answering emails, posting today’s content on social media, and engaging with people in the comments.
One of the reasons I’ve grown my business the way I have is because I’m accessible to people. I want to help them in any way I can.
When I’ve finished with the engagement part of my day, I open another browser and begin looking into merchandise.
There are a few catchphrases that I have, including, Love yourself as you are right now, and Beautiful isn’t a size.
Followers have asked me for more than a year to put these on shirts, mugs, bags, you name it, but I had to have them trademarked first. And now that I’ve finished that crazy process, we can start putting out the merchandise.
I wonder if one, or both, of my teenage cousins would like a part-time job to help with this. I’ll have to make a note to ask them.
I’ve just turned off the computer and am staring out the window when my phone rings.
Not a text, a call.
That’s when I know something is serious.
I frown at Olivia’s name and answer. “Hey, you.”
I hear her sniffle and then, “I’m not marrying Vaughn.”
Standing, I hurry through the condo to put on shoes and grab my purse. “What? Why? Are you hurt?”
“I’m so fucking mad.”
“Okay. I’ve got you. Where are you right now?”
“At work.” More sniffles. “And I’m locked in my office because I can’t let anyone see me like this. Stella’s on her way, but she’s in Olympia on a job, and that’s really far.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I promise her, trying to decide if I should walk or drive. Depending on traffic, speed-walking might be faster.
“Okay,” she says and sniffs again. “I’ll let them know you’re coming.”
“Ten minutes,” I say again and hang up, deciding to drive. And for today, I’m in luck because traffic doesn’t suck, and I’m able to get to the Williams Productions building in less than six minutes.
I park in what Uncle Luke has designated as family parking and hurry into the building.
Thankfully, security knows me and buzzes me right through.
When I make it to Olivia’s office, I open the door, close it behind me, and hurry over to where she’s curled up at the end of a sofa that looks out to the city.