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)
Great. Not only do I have to watch my former lover and oldest friend’s wedded bliss with another woman, but I get to bathe in some old man’s drool all night while I convince him he really should be happy when our mammoth conglomerate gobbles up his life’s work. And if I start losing him, I’ll just point to my chest and say, “And did I mention my breasts?”
“So who is this big fish I’m wiggling on the hook for?” I slow my steps, forcing my father to do the same.
Daddy’s lips tighten with distaste at my candor. He has no problem doing distasteful things, but he doesn’t like me talking about them. Or maybe he just doesn’t like to talk about the distasteful things I do, even when I do them for him.
“Trevor Bishop.” Daddy narrows his eyes like he’s sighting a target. “Thirty-five years old. He and his business partner are based in Atlanta, but are here in New York for a few months exploring options to expand, taking meetings, doing events like this one.”
Well, at least I can knock old off the list. He’s not much older than I am.
“So what’s his deal?”
“His ‘deal’ is that he and his college buddy started a business to start businesses, and it’s exploded. They focus on developing and third world nations. They’ve started businesses in Haiti, Kenya, and Cambodia. They’re really concerned about training the people in these areas and empowering them economically. It’s actually quite brilliant, and good of them.”
“If it’s so good of them, why can’t we just leave them to it?”
“Because, honey”—Daddy dips the word in condescension—“they’re making money hand over fist, and that bottom line would be even better under Bennett leadership.”
“Better because it would be a Bennett holding and you’d get to benefit from it?”
“Me?” Daddy elevates just one brow. “Don’t you mean we? This is your future, too, young lady. When you’re done with this modeling nonsense, there’s a place for you at the table.”
He says this to manipulate me. He uses my love against me, and I allow it. Daddy probably thinks the only place at the table for me is under it, blowing some client who needs persuading. Not that he’s ever actually asked me to sleep with anyone to acquire a company. Even he wouldn’t prostitute his own daughter.
I guess. Who knows how badly he wants this fish.
I look at the table where Walsh and Kerris just sat down. Walsh stands back up to greet two men approaching the table. One is the kind of man you’d see and struggle to recall exactly what he looked like five minutes later. He is beige and insipid like oatmeal. His mouse-brown hair is receding. His glasses barely hang on the tip of his nose. He seems fit enough, maybe five ten. That’s all I have the attention span for before I have to look away.
The other man—well, the other man you’d never forget. If his friend is beige, this man is a vivid swath of color. His tuxedo—Tom Ford, if my eye is right, and my eye is unfailing—lays against him like a lover. He wears it with a white, open-collared silk shirt instead of a bow tie, and I approve. He is what some would call strapping. Not many men can look down on me, but he could. I’m five eleven barefoot. He must be a good six five, with a broad chest and a tapered waist. The flawlessly tailored pants pull just a little at the muscled line of his thigh. There is a craggy symmetry to his features. A rough balance of high, sharp cheekbones, slashing dark brows, and wide sensual mouth. The almost hawkish nose and square chin make something arresting of a face that could have stopped at handsome. The contrast of his tanned skin and burned cinnamon hair draw my eyes and won’t let go.
Ah, a ginger. I’ve never had a redhead before. I’m a ginger virgin. He could pop that cherry anytime he likes.
“Did you hear me, Sofie?” Impatience tightens Daddy’s lips.
“Sorry, Daddy. No. You were saying something about this Trevor Bishop.”
“That’s him at the table with Walsh. He’s the taller one, and his partner is the shorter one with glasses.”
“You want me to charm him?”
The prospect of flirting with this beautiful beast of a man makes me tingle. It will be like taming a lion with no whip or chair. A bare-handed taunting and tempting with only my considerable female wiles to subdue all that hulking maleness. Deliciously dangerous, and I’m completely up for the challenge.
“Not charm, just…be nice to him. Talk up Bennett when you have an opening.” Daddy’s mouth goes stern and his eyes turn hard. “I’m trusting you with this, Sofie. Do not embarrass me with this man. He’s not like these other men you…entertain.”