Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 124923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
“Shit, shit, shit,” Shayne says, fumbling for her phone. “He can’t find them snooping around.” She looks at me, eyes wide as saucers. I still think she’s let her true crime consumption rot her brain, but better safe than sorry.
“Give me this,” I say, plucking her drink from her hand since mine is mostly empty. “I’ll handle him.”
“Valen, no.” She catches my wrist. “You do not want to be on his radar.”
“I’m not on his radar. That’s exactly why this will work. He has no idea who I am or that we even know each other.”
She shakes her head, unconvinced, but I’m not worried. I know men like Samuel. I know how to distract.
I make my way across the room, planning to cut him off halfway. When I get close, I pull out my phone, pretending to be so preoccupied with it that I’m not watching where I’m going. Once he’s within reach, I trip on nothing, catching myself on his bicep, sending my drink all over the front of his suit jacket. He swivels to face me fully, steadying me by my waist before I go down for real.
“I’m so, so sorry,” I say, giving him my best deer-in-the-headlights expression. His grip lingers on my waist, squeezing, but I’m pretty sure it’s out of anger. “Shoot, I got it all over your jacket. Here, let me.”
He finally removes his hands, taking note of the wet spot on his lapel with a scowl. I pull out his pocket square and dab at his chest, and the irritation in his eyes morphs into appreciation as he zeroes in on the way my tits move as I do so. I barely contain my eye roll. Men are so easy. Even ones more than double my age with more money and power than most people can ever dream of.
“I wasn’t watching where I was going. Totally my fault. I went to the bathroom, but then I couldn’t find my way back to my friends. I mean, this place is huge, right?” I ramble on as I blot away at the wet patch.
His hand closes around mine, stopping my efforts, then directs my hand away. “Do I get to know the name of the young lady who spilled champagne on me in my own home?”
“Valentina,” I say, opting to give him the name that feels less personal to me.
“Do you have a last name, Valentina?”
I hesitate for a fraction of a second as those hard eyes bore into mine. I see what Shayne meant. This guy oozes intimidation. “Solorio,” I finally say.
A flash of recognition dawns in his eyes. “Claudia’s daughter?”
“You know my mother?” I ask. Sawyer Point is a relatively small town, but I didn’t think they knew each other. He must know her well enough, though, considering she no longer bears my father’s last name.
“I know everyone in this town. Hazard of the trade.” He lifts a brow before he looks me up and down. “Can’t say I see the resemblance.”
“I favor my father.”
“Right.” He shrugs out of his jacket and folds it over his forearm.” Well, enjoy yourself, Valentina, and Happy New Year. Try not to spill your drink on any more unsuspecting victims.” He winks, but it does nothing to soften the harsh delivery.
How can someone make wishing you a Happy New Year sound like a death threat? Samuel starts to turn away, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Holden and Thayer walking down the stairs, casual as ever, as if they aren’t on the verge of being caught.
“Wait!” I say a little too hastily. He gives a pointed look to his arm that I’ve latched onto.
“Yes?” he grinds out. He’s quickly losing his patience with me now, no longer able to keep the polite mask in place. But I just need to keep him occupied for another ten seconds. I rack my brain for something to say. Anything at all. Bonus points if it leads to the answers Holden’s looking for. Not because I care about Holden, but because I care about Shayne. The sooner this is put to rest, the sooner they can all move on.
“If this is your house, that means…” I let my words hang in the air, playing dumb. “You’re Christian’s dad, right? Judge Ames?”
Bad idea. Abort mission. If looks could kill, I’d be dead on the floor. I can see the moment suspicion sets in, his eyes narrowing into slits. I push on, pretending to be oblivious to his shift in demeanor.
“We went to SPH together. I haven’t seen him since we graduated, though. How is he?”
It doesn’t take much effort for Samuel to rein in his temper, easily slipping back into the role of the friendly neighborhood judge. “Excuse me. I need to run upstairs for a new jacket.”
My eyes flit back to the staircase just long enough to see that the coast is clear. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Holden making a beeline straight for me, looking nothing short of furious. My eyes widen for a fraction of a second before I can school my expression. “Right. Of course,” I say, keeping my tone light and airy. “Sorry, again.”