Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Oh no,” he whispers close to my ear. “I’m in trouble.”
Fear darts through me as I step back. I search his face for a clue, worried that he’s in medical distress. “Are you all right, sir?”
“Your husband is headed this way.” He tilts his chin up. “And he doesn’t look happy.”
It takes me a second to unpack that because I’ve only had a husband for less than a day.
I turn to see Graham walking toward us.
Well, hello, hot husband.
The man is turning heads. He’s looking all kinds of perfect in his gray suit. His hair is slightly messy, which is a new look for him. I like it. I like it a lot.
He darts a hand through it as though he can read my mind. “It’s windy outside.”
My eyes catch on the silver band on his left hand.
I put that there. It may be temporary and have little meaning, but my heart doesn’t get that memo because it starts pounding inside my chest.
“Trina,” he says my name quietly. “I didn’t expect you to be here. I thought you were busy.”
“I rearranged my schedule, Graham.” I turn to look at Mr. Abdon when I hear the tremor in my voice. “I couldn’t miss the opportunity to welcome Mr. Abdon home.”
“Lloyd,” Mr. Abdon insists as he reaches for my hand. “It’s time you started calling me Lloyd.”
He winks the same way he always does whenever he sneaks the words time or watch into a sentence.
Graham moves to grab hold of Lloyd’s forearm. I can tell that his touch is soft as he leads the older man forward by a step. “Let’s get you to the hotel.”
“Hotel?” Lloyd’s gaze volleys between Graham and me. “I happen to know that penthouse you live in has a handful of bedrooms. I assumed I’d be staying with the newlyweds, or is that overstepping?”
Graham’s eyes lock on mine.
I stare at him in disbelief. I’m all for pretending to be his wife in name only, but the solace in that is at the end of the day, I can go home, kick off my shoes, take off my bra, and be Trina Shaw again.
Without blinking, my husband answers, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Lloyd. Trina and I would love to have you as our houseguest.”
Chapter Eight
Graham
I’ve been married for less than a day, and I’m reasonably sure that my wife is plotting my murder.
She hasn’t so much as glanced in my direction since I invited Lloyd to stay with me or us.
We are in the lobby of my building now as Trina takes it all in.
I wish to hell she didn’t look so surprised by the elegant décor and grand entrance to the building.
Thankfully, Lloyd hasn’t noticed that my bride is stunned into silence since this is her first time seeing what is supposed to be her home sweet home.
“I’ll need to rest once we’re upstairs, “ Lloyd announces, and I almost reach over to plant a kiss in the middle of his forehead to thank him.
I’m going to use that time wisely to convince my assistant to move in with me.
His proclamation stops Trina mid-step. She glances at me. “In that case, I think I’ll head back to the office. There are some things I need to take care of.”
If one of those things is to file for a divorce, I’m in a hell of a lot of trouble.
I paste a forced grin on my face as we walk on either side of Lloyd on our way toward the bank of elevators. “Let’s get Lloyd settled in the guest room in the east wing before you do that.”
“East wing?” she mouths to herself.
I catch the look of disbelief on her face.
The penthouse was a sound investment during a time I was looking for a place to settle down. The fact that it has six bedrooms, a sauna, a rooftop terrace, and a killer view are all bonuses.
My plan has always been to sell in several years to pocket the profit, as the area is experiencing a steady uptick in property values.
“That’s my favorite room,” Lloyd mutters as I guide him onto the elevator. “It’s near the library.”
Trina tosses me a look that makes me wonder if she thinks I’m illiterate.
The library is a room that I’ve yet to step foot in. The previous owner left behind the books that line the shelves, or rather her attorney did. Her death made the news because of her philanthropy and the fact that she had no family to speak of.
I share that in common with the dearly departed. Family is only a word to me since I don’t have one.
I tap my keycard against the elevator panel to light up the button marked P1.
Penthouse 1.
It’s misleading, as there is only one Penthouse on the property. The remaining apartments are all impressive in their own right, but they don’t require a keycard to access the button that leads to their floors.