Baxter’s Right-Hand Man (The Baxter Chronicles #2) Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Baxter Chronicles Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
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Sure enough, half of me was pictured in a photo alongside a gaggle of beaming firefighters surrounding Pierce Allen.

“That is you. I’d know those loafers anywhere.” Bran pointed at the screen. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me. That man is so…” Irritating, self-absorbed, high and mighty. “Dreamy!”

I curbed an eye roll. “Yeah, well…don’t be offended. It was a highly stressful luncheon.”

“Sounds like it. Tell me everything.”

I filled him in on the studio’s recent photo op between long-lost relatives, leaving out the part about Pierce disputing that it was true. I felt like I needed to know why Mr. Gowan hadn’t been truthful from the start before I shared that story. Maybe it was confidential and I wasn’t meant to know. It seemed kinder to portray the second meeting as a friendly luncheon gone sideways via medical emergency. Which it was.

“Anyway, the fire brigade showed up with the ambulance, spotted the movie star, and the second round of chaos ensued,” I reported. “It was extra, Bran. Very extra.”

“Poor Mr. G.” Bran opened his mouth as if to grill me just as his phone buzzed in his hand. He kissed my cheek and bent to scritch Benson’s ears. “I gotta run. Charge the flowers to our account whenever you’re able to go, and give him my best.”

“I will.”

“We’ll chat later. I need more movie-star deets. Are his eyes really that blue?” Yes. “Did you swoon when he smiled?” No, I wanted to punch him. “Later, doll!”

“Later.”

Bran stopped at the door, sunglasses perched on the end of his nose. “Is he legit tall in person? I heard Hollywood adds two inches everywhere…if you know what I mean.”

I snorted. “I’m pretty sure dick size isn’t a public measurement.”

“Too bad. Ciao for now!”

I chuckled when he waggled his brows and sashayed away, but damn, he got me thinking about all the things I didn’t know about Pierce Allen. How old was he? Where was he born? I knew his mom passed away a year or so ago—what about the rest of his family?

I’d honed my fangirl research with Britney, Christina, and my favorite boy bands when I was an impressionable youngster. I was the type who wanted to know every tidbit of an actor or musician’s life if I loved the series they were on or their newest song. What can I say? When the fever caught me, I fell hard.

But I’d never googled Pierce Allen. It was time to fix that.

I waited for the midmorning lull, then opened my browser and typed his name.

OMG. If possible, he was more famous than I’d realized.

There was an overview, photos, videos, awards, movies. There was a Wikipedia page, official social media links, a website with merchandise. That was all to be expected. But the fan fiction, fan sites, and dating and gossip blogs were a surprise. There were pages and pages of articles written about him.

He was photographed in stunning locations with huge stars, world leaders, gorgeous models, royalty, and…unbelievably, half of me in a selfie with a group of firefighters.

I supposed it was amusing, but my first thought was, Wow, it must suck to be him. My second thought was a curiously melancholy acknowledgment that I’d probably never see him again. Not up close and personal, standing a foot apart from each other, tidying a kitchen like old friends.

Life was strange.

5

PIERCE

Buzz buzz

I stared, unseeing, at my giant flat-screen and my cell. I usually ignored phone calls, but I was restless as fuck and in desperate need of a distraction. Not this one, though.

“How did you get this number?” I growled into my phone, furrowing my brow hard enough to give myself a headache.

“I have my ways,” a deep voice chuckled on the line. “How’s it goin’, Pierce? Still kickin’ ass in La-La Land?”

“What do you want?”

“I just wanted to say hi to my little brother and—”

“Bullshit. What do you want?” I repeated.

“I need a couple grand.”

“Sounds about right,” I mumbled.

“Ten thousand will do it.”

“Ten thousand! What the fuck?”

“Hey, I’m taking care of the old man these days and you know, life is fuckin’ expensive, bro,” he said in a smarmy tone that made my skin crawl.

I shook my head in mock dismay as if asking the universe if it could believe this guy.

“We’ve been through this, bro. I’m not an ATM. Sounds like nothing has changed, but it was nice to talk to you anyway,” I snarked. “Later.”

“Don’t hang up. Just one more time, man. I won’t ask again. I won’t have to. I saw you met up with some rich cousin of ours.”

I froze. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play me, baby bro. That sweet family photo spread is making the rounds on social media. I’m a little hurt I didn’t make that cut.”

“I bet. That was nothing, Phil.”

My brother cackled. “Yeah, right. I’m sure you want me to believe that. Guy looks like he’s about to kick the bucket.”



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