Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
"Dawn, do you have any idea what time it is?" she says, as soon as the call collects. Her voice is husky from tiredness but light with amusement. I do have a tendency to get in touch at unsociable hours, not only since I arrived in Australia.
"I do, and look, you’re awake!"
She snorts and takes a noisy sip of a drink. "I’m awake only because I’m mainlining espressos. I swear my boss is trying to kill me."
"More stories about the best ways to fellate a one-night stand?"
She snorts derisively. "Tonight's gem is a write up of how many men were unable to identify the position of the clitoris in a recent survey."
"Depressing stuff," I muse. "How many years did you study in college for this opportunity?"
"Don’t. Seriously. I keep telling myself that I’ll do it for one more month and find something else, but every time I look, nothing pays as well."
"It’s a deal with the devil," I say.
"It really is." Allie sips her drink again and the rustle of clothing in the background creates an image of her reclining against her office chair. "So what has inspired this call today?"
"Can’t a girl check in on a bestie once in a while?"
"A girl can check in on a bestie whenever she wants, but I have a feeling this is about something else."
"Your reporter's intuition is uncanny," I say. "To summarize quickly, so I don’t keep you away from your blow job stories, I’m in Australia. I’m having an awesome vacation romance with nine gorgeous men. They’re being harassed by a powerful man who wants to buy their bar. I met a woman who was sexually harassed by the same man. She’s agreed to tell the police about the sexual harassment to try to help my nine gorgeous fuck buddies…"
"Hold up, Dawn. What the fuck? I’ve drunk six espressos today. My mind is made of coffee grounds right now. Slow down. Nine men?"
"Yep. You know me. I like to go big."
"Bigger than Kyla," she snorts.
"It’s not a competition. It just worked out that way."
"And the sexual harassment?"
"It’s a man named Jeffrey Barrow. He’s a big shot on this side of the Pacific."
"And you’re telling me all this, why?"
"You have a contact in an Australian newspaper. I remember you mentioning it when you got the blow job job."
"I do. Crystal. A woman I studied with went to work in Sydney."
"Bingo," I say, smiling up at the sky. "Would you be willing to send me her details? I want to run my crazy story past her, leaving out the fuck buddy aspect, of course!"
"Why spare her the good stuff?" Allie asks. "That’s probably the part she’ll want to run with!"
"Because she’s not one of my besties."
"Good answer. I’m sending you her details right now. When are you coming home?"
I spin on my foot, her question sending a rush of restlessness up my spine and over my scalp. "I don’t know, Allie. I like it here a lot, but my feet are already itchy."
"You mean those nine sex gods are getting too close?"
"I’m hanging up now before you turn to psychoanalysis."
"Behind blow jobs, psychoanalysis is my second expert subject."
"TMI," I laugh. "Speak to you soon, and thanks."
Armed with the name and phone number of Allie’s journalist friend, I search out Lachlan and find him hunched over a laptop. When he looks up and notices me, he drops his bandaged hand beneath the low table in front of him.
I shake my head. "You don’t need to hide it, Lachlan. I bandaged it for you, remember?"
He nods once, then his eyes drift back to the screen.
"I have the number of a journalist in Sydney, a friend of a friend. Maybe we can make this whole thing with Barrow into a story she might be willing to look into more?"
"A story?" He sounds doubtful but I think that’s just Lachlan’s first approach to everything. All he’ll need is a little convincing.
"Yeah. Why not? It’s got everything. Ruthless corrupt asshole. Nine sexy bar owners. A woman standing up to sexual harassment. A development that’s going to crush small business owners. If she takes the story, it could really help get someone to look at Barrow."
"I’m just filling out the insurance forms for the fire damage," he says. Then, shaking his head, he reaches to the chair next to him and pats it. "They can wait, though. This sounds like it could be something good."
For the next hour, Lachlan and I refine the story about what’s happened at Cloud 9 and to Chantelle. I put a call in to Crystal, the journalist, relaying the information as best as I can and providing her with contact details for Chantelle and Lachlan. She agrees to call me back once she’s had a chance to think about it and do some digging.
After, Kyla and I head back with Chantelle to begin the job of packing up her life.