Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
He’s being interviewed about his new book adeptly titled Single All the Way and the charity organization now funded solely by its sales.
His hair is longer than when we first met, but his outfit of choice remains the same. Dark jeans, a white undershirt, and his Christmas-red button-up dress shirt with its sleeves rolled to the elbows.
The first handful of questions Zane faces are the standard questions any author is asked during a book tour, but they delve a little deeper into the nitty-gritty when a familiar voice whispers, “Tell her it was Santa who led you to your ultimate calling. I’m sure she’ll believe you.”
Zane’s cheeks glow before he follows Casey’s instruction to the T. “It was Santa who led me to my ultimate calling.”
“Santa… right?” stammers out the blonde interviewing him. “And how did that happen?”
I can’t hold back the giggle that erupts from my throat when Zane answers, “He was kind of stalking me, so I returned the favor and ended up at the airport, seeking a ticket to a foreign country.”
The interviewer’s next question exposes she’s done her research. “Was that where you ran into Kelsey again?”
Zane nods before he licks his suddenly dry lips.
His mouth dries for an entirely different reason than the steamy kiss we shared in front of thousands of Christmas travelers when she asks, “She was one of your previous… clients, right?”
Zane hears her final word in the same manner as me. She’s referring to him as if he was an escort. “No. Kelsey was never a client of mine,” he replies, his tone stern like when he testified for the prosecution indicting Peter for multiple counts of embezzlement.
Peter didn’t attend Zane’s apartment solely because he wanted me back. The realization that I had removed his stockbroker access to my online trading account had him sweating.
It is illegal to sell securities without a client’s permission. Even the shadiest stockbrokers could face legal ramifications for it, so Peter figured demanding a refund would be the quickest and most suitable option out of the pickle he’d found himself in.
He was clueless that Zane had Emma reverse the transfer hours earlier since he refused to “work” on his home turf.
I tune back in when Zane’s voice switches from angry to remorseful. “And can I please say on record again that I not once slept with a client. I never offered them anything more than my friendship.”
The interview veers away from a book that has helped millions of women globally when the blonde snaps out, “Friendship you offered in exchange for money?”
Zane’s exhale sinks his chest. “Yes. But—”
“Do you not think that sounds a little ostentatious?”
“Stupid is a better word,” Zane fires back. “But that is why I started the Single All the Way foundation and wrote a step-by-step guide on overcoming the fear of financial isolation and women’s rights when a relationship is dissolved outside the clauses of marriage.”
“So you’re trying to help women?”
Zane nods. “Yes—”
“After hurting so many?”
Nothing but sincerity is on Zane’s face as he says, “My intention was never to hurt anybody.”
When he peers at me over the production set equipment, I smile to assure him he has nothing to prove to me.
While endeavoring to get my LLC off the ground, I met with a handful of his ex-clients. Although they were as shocked as me to discover the commencement of Zane’s friendship wasn’t a coincidence, not a single one had a bad word to say about him.
They’re too strong for pettiness, too powerful to let another man slow them down. They took the knocks life handed them and used them to better themselves.
As much as Zane hates to admit this, he was merely their wingman, tagging along for the ride.
I tune back into the interview at the right moment. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late to apologize?”
“It’s never too late,” Zane immediately replies. “If you want to go back to the start and make a brand-new ending, no one can stop you.” I laugh when he says, “If you want to follow Santa’s chant across three continents, no one can stop you.” He locks his eyes with mine, and I melt into a gooey puddle. “And if you want to tell the love of your life that she is the greatest gift you could have ever asked for, no one can stop you.”
Against the advice of the producer and the interviewer, he slips off his chair and slowly heads my way. “And if you want to fall to your knees and beg her to believe in the miracle of Christmas one more time, no one can stop you.” My heart thuds louder than the boisterous claps of the live audience when he bends down on one knee and produces a ring box from his jeans pocket. “Because only you can decide where your story starts, and mine started with you, Kelsey.” Two fat salty blobs form in my eyes when he opens the ring box to display a beautiful diamond ring. “So, will you do me the honor of continuing to be my greatest blessing?”