Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Samantha growled.
“Yes, he should have, Sammie,” Cynthia countered. “He wouldn’t be as good as you claim he is if he hadn’t said it.” She turned and looked at me, her eyes flowing with tears now. “I do everything I can to protect my son from Michael’s tirades and total lack of empathy, sympathy, or any other human emotion in this fucking world. Michael has never once laid a hand on our son, nor has he ever hit me in front of Micah. But, yes, my son does pay for my mistake…every damn day of his life. If I could take it back, I would.”
The man might not have ever hit Micah, but there was no doubt emotional abuse. On top of that, if stupidity, arrogance, and obnoxiousness were hereditary traits, the kid wouldn’t have a fucking chance. Weren’t the father’s genes more dominant? Had I read that somewhere? Must not be because the kid seemed pretty nice and intelligent, which was completely opposite of his father.
“I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s my job to keep Micah safe, not be judgmental over something I know nothing about.”
“Oh. My. God,” Samantha said as she laughed at me. “With that attitude, my godson is going to eat you alive, Landon. Cyn can take care of herself and if she can’t, I’ll be right beside her. I would have been here all along if I’d known he was an abusive asshole instead of just an asshole. Let me worry about the Gentry family dysfunction and you worry about not allowing Jinx to have you chasing your tail just so he can laugh at you.”
I barked out a laugh. “That kid? The one that just left the room?” I shook my head. “No need to worry. I’ll be extra vigilant to not die of boredom while maneuvering the fashion and modeling industry just so I can keep him safe.” I couldn’t believe Samantha thought for one minute that Micah might give me any trouble.
She grinned. “Good. You can start being extra vigilant right now, dear. One of Jinx’s requirements was that we have you fitted for a new wardrobe.” She looked me up and down. “Apparently, he doesn’t approve of your fashion and modeling industry taste. He instructed us to use his tailor. He’s sending him some messages on what he’d like to see you dressed in while serving as his bodyguard.” Looking at her cell as it beeped, she said, “Actually, you need to be at Micah’s hotel in thirty minutes to meet with Rinaldo, so you’d best start moving. Apparently, the man is going to have some things there for you to wear until he can have some tailored specifically for you.”
“Oh! Rinaldo is a darling! Tell him Cyn said hello!” Cynthia gushed. “You’ll love him!”
“What in the hell is wrong with my clothes?” I sputtered as I tried not to be embarrassed. The sweet and innocent little kid was already bitching about my wardrobe. Wow, I hadn’t seen that one coming. I usually read people really well, but after Samantha’s remarks and now my hideous wardrobe, I was starting to wonder if I’d made a grave error in my judgment of Micah Gentry.
“Nothing, darling,” Cynthia answered quickly. “It’s just that…well, the industry can be somewhat harsh and cruel if you don’t fit in. I’m certain Micah is simply looking out for your feelings. If you weren’t raised in the modeling world, it can be quite…well, it resembles Hell on Earth.”
“Fucking perfect,” I muttered. My clothes were fine. What had I just gotten myself in to? “Oh…why is his trade name Jinx? Or does it even matter?” I refused to refer to him using that ridiculous name. Micah suited him much better.
A sad expression crossed Cynthia’s face. “His father came up with that nickname when he was just a baby. Before I knew it, he’d called him that in front of enough people that it stuck. The agency he contracted with loves the nickname—they think it makes him stand out even more, so that’s how they introduced him to the public. He acts like it doesn’t bother him, but I know he isn’t a fan.” She looked at the chair Micah’s father had just vacated. “God, how I hate that man. Someone please tell me how I could have been so fucking stupid to have ever allowed him into my bed.”
“You were seventeen and he was eighteen, Cyn. Shit happens. The entire industry thought it would be the most fantastic love match of the century—up there next to Princess Diana and Prince Charles.”
“Yeah, and we all know how that ended,” Cynthia remarked quietly. “I love my son. I’d give my life in an instant for him, but I hate how he came into the world and I hate the world he came in to.”