Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“So what’ll it take?”
I love it when opportunities fall into my lap like apples. Harold and I had already decided we would wait for their next move, that we’d stick with Bennett for now. I’m getting something I want in exchange for something I was already prepared to give Walsh. It’s great being me. I also love that as prepared as Walsh likes to think he is, and as much as he likes to think he has dug up on me, I’m about to take him completely by surprise.
“We’ll stay in play if you give me Sofie Baston’s number.”
Walsh just blinks at me for a few seconds, until the request registers. A frown settles between his eyebrows. His mouth tightens.
“I don’t think that—”
“That’s it. Not much to ask.”
“Sofie?” Walsh’s frown goes deeper if possible. “Sofie Baston?”
“About this tall.” I bring my hand up as high as my nose. “Legs that go on forever. I think you know her.”
“Look, Bishop, I get it.” Walsh grins at me. “Sofie’s beautiful, obviously. And lots of guys—”
“I don’t care about lots of guys.” My voice comes out harder than I expected. Obviously harder than Walsh did, too, judging by the sharp look he levels at me. “You give me that number, or today we start calling all the other companies prepared to meet our terms.”
“That doesn’t make any conventional business sense.”
“Says the man ambushing me in a steam room to do business wearing nothing but a towel. Neither of us got where we are being conventional. We both know what we want, and go after it.”
“And you want Sofie?”
“Obviously.” I don’t sprinkle sugar on it. I don’t explain it to him because it’s none of his damn business what I want with Sofie.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you—”
“Trying to peg me would be a mistake, Bennett. Waste of your time and insulting to me.”
Walsh stands up, gripping the ends of his towel together at one hip.
“I’ll get you the number, but let me warn you.” He turns at the door. “I know Sofie seems tough, but she’s been through a lot. Guys have hurt her in the past.”
“Like you did?” The question is a dart I aim through the scented air.
Walsh might punch me if he could. Only the business we still have pending, the twenty pounds and couple of inches I have on him, probably stop him.
“Yeah, like I did,” he finally responds. “Sofie and I grew up together, and dating her was a mistake, but we’re still friends. She’s not an easy woman to know.”
I hope the smile I give Walsh doesn’t come off as cocky, because right now I’m feeling pretty satisfied with myself.
“Which is why I need your help.”
“One more thing, Bishop.” Walsh angles his head down, looking at me from beneath a slash of dark brows. “Because of my, shall we say research, I think I know what you want to do next.”
“Next?” I focus on keeping the line of my shoulders even and relaxed. “Not sure what you mean.”
“One of the things I admire about you most is that you, like me, actually want to change the world, and are foolish enough to think you can do it. You understand that even as much good as Deutimus is doing, it’s sometimes like blowing on a wildfire.”
He presses his back to the door, pushing it ajar and releasing some of the steamy air trapped in the room.
“You need to work from inside, to be in a position to influence those corrupt bastards leading these countries and making it hard for their own people to thrive.”
“Let’s say your right,” I say. “What does any of that have to do with me and Sofie?”
“I know what you want next, and you can’t have scandal if you’re going to get it. Sofie draws scandal like bees to honey. I’m just saying you may not be able to have both.”
“Walsh, your father recently told me that I remind him of you,” I say. “I’d like to test that theory. How do you respond when someone says you can’t have something you want badly?”
A lopsided grin skews Walsh’s lips. He turns to leave, tossing his last words over his shoulder.
“I’ll get you that number.”
CHAPTER TEN
Sofie
Not him again.
I’ve been ignoring my cell all morning, but if I see Rip’s name flash on the screen one more time, I may hurl the phone through my office window. And it’s a new phone. A new window, for that matter.
“Rip, hey.” I lean back in the office chair I managed to smuggle from Bennett Enterprises in last week’s move.
“Sofie, I’ve been calling you all day,” Rip says, voice petulant.
“Have you? Sorry, I’ve been slammed here at the office.”
“Did you see what the Post wrote about us? They’re reporting that we’re done.”
“Is that what they said?” I massage one temple. In just the week since our split, I’d almost forgotten what a recalcitrant child Rip can be.