Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 80576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“I sense a love connection.” She picks a piece of lint from her jeans. “My heart is telling me that you just had your first date with your future husband.”
I toss my head back in laughter. “You’re not serious?”
“Dead serious.” Her facial expression matches her tone.
“I’ll bet you that he’ll be having sex with someone else tonight.”
Sinclair purses her lips. “I’ll up that and bet you that he has not fucked anyone since he saw the picture of you in lingerie.”
“He can’t go without sex for that long.”
“A man will wait for the woman he wants.” She points a finger at me. “He really wants you, and don’t try and tell me that the picture you accidentally sent him was low quality. None of the pictures you take are low quality. He got a good look at everything you’re hiding under your clothes.”
“This is silly.” I manage a half-laugh. “He’s going to take his parents home, and then he’ll find a woman to spend the night with.”
Sinclair pushes to her feet. “I’m taking Duds out for a walk, and then I need to write. Email The Dick in an hour; an hour-and-a-half tops. Thank him again for kicking Lowell out of your life. I bet you a week of cooking dinner, he’ll reply right away.”
Sinclair isn’t the best cook, but I could use the break from the kitchen, so I jut out my hand. “It’s a bet.”
She shakes it before she kisses the top of it. “This is the beginning of something amazing for you, Arietta. I’m right. You’re wrong, so start meal planning now.”
I bring our joined hands together so I can kiss the top of hers before I drop it. “I’m right. I know I am.”
I say the words even though my heart is hoping I’m dead wrong.
Chapter 32
Dominick
I toss my phone and keys on a small table that sits in the foyer of my apartment. The sound when they hit the wood punctuates the silence. I live on the top floor in what many would refer to as a penthouse.
It’s spacious, tastefully decorated, and affords me views of Central Park that can steal the breath of even the most jaded New Yorker.
It was the thirtieth apartment that I’d toured in a month. Something about it hit a spot inside of me. I wouldn’t call it love, but I could see success when I walked through the door.
It resembled the place I envisioned I’d live in when I read all of those financial magazines in college. In the Forbes article that featured Vernon Greenwalt, there was a picture of him at his ten thousand square foot summerhouse in Nantucket. Another billionaire in the article, Wheaton Comsort Jr., was photographed on his yacht in the French Riviera.
This apartment is a symbol of my achievements. It’s an empty, quiet symbol. My villa in Italy is the same.
I move to the windows as I tug the sweater I’ve been wearing all night over my head. I toe out of my shoes, rid myself of my socks and drop my pants before I reach the glass.
No one can see in, although it wouldn’t matter if they could.
I stand in my boxer briefs and stare out into the vastness of Central Park and the city it centers.
I glance over my shoulder when I hear my phone chime signaling the arrival of an email. I should ignore it since I’ve ignored every other notification from my phone all evening.
But, it’s late. It’s too late for anyone to be worried about money except my clients that live across the Atlantic.
I stalk back to my phone and scoop it up.
I skim my fingers over the screen to open my email app.
The ten alerts that sounded during the evening are all emails from clients. I know what they want. It’s a slice of my time tomorrow.
I’ll get to them in the morning, but the most recent email can’t wait.
That one is from Arietta.
I read the subject line and click open the message.
Subject: Thank You
Dear Dominick,
Thank you again for what you did tonight.
If you hadn’t figured out that Lowell was the lowest of the lowlifes, I might have made a very big mistake.
You saved me.
If there’s anything I can do to repay you for that, please let me know.
Arietta
You can repay me by riding my cock or sitting on my face.
Hell, at this point I’ll take a kiss as repayment because I’m infatuated with my assistant.
I suck in a deep breath before I hit reply.
Subject: Re: Thank You
Dear Arietta,
You’re welcome.
There’s no need to repay me, as I’m the one in your debt.
Not only did you introduce me to Mrs. Blanchard, but you also found my dad a copy of that book that’s been out of print forever. What’s the title again?
Dominick
I hit send.
Strategy is an integral part of every form of communication.