Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I was happy to hear he wasn’t a creep, but now I feel like shit for jumping to conclusions.
“So the cameras were put in place after?”
“Looks that way. Is that all you were concerned about?”
“Yeah.”
“Not concerned about the blind spots around the outside of the house?”
“Blind spots?” I haven’t had the chance to walk the property yet.
A chuckle fills the line. “She’s tampered with every angle. Does she have access to the system?”
“I’m sure she has an app like her parents do.”
“Even with twelve cameras, the estate is really too big to get full coverage, but scanning through shots from a year or so ago, I can tell they’ve been moved. I have her on video on two different shots where she’s angled the camera slightly. Either the woman is technically smart or she has a lot of time on her hands.”
I get the feeling it’s a little bit of both.
“Can you get a team out here to update it and add more on the outside?”
“I can,” he confirms. “Is it because she’s sneaky?”
“Yeah,” I answer, but my eyes are on the stack of threatening letters on the desk.
At Blackbridge, we’ve worked with some pretty high-profile clients. Although Remington isn’t an actual celebrity, she’s famous by association and her antics. I’ve seen people act crazy over much less.
Hanging my head with exhaustion, I give Wren the specifications I think will work with this system. Before hanging up, he assures me that he’ll have a team over no later than tomorrow.
Glancing back up at the monitors, I reluctantly pull up the poolside shots. Knowing she has clothes on makes it less creepy, right? Besides, I’m not perving after her. I’m simply checking to make sure she’s there and safe.
Only she isn’t there. All four shots, including the one directly on the calm water are empty.
I spring from the desk chair and run out of the office. I don’t think she’d jump in her car in a bathing suit, but I don’t know her enough to completely rule it out either.
We nearly collide with each other in the informal living room. Either Wren was lying about her wearing a full suit or she took her top off before walking back into the main area of the house.
Somehow I once again manage to keep my eyes above her shoulders. She smirks at me, not hiding her own eyes as they sweep down my torso. I’m fully clothed but somehow her perusal makes me feel like I’m standing in the middle of the room without a stitch of clothing on. My body reacts like it would if any gorgeous girl looked at me like she wanted to nibble on me for a snack.
I clear my throat, but it doesn’t deter her.
“What are your plans for the day?”
I don’t anticipate her telling me the truth, but at least my voice doesn’t crack and it gets her head to lift, eyes meeting mine. The exotic green surrounding her pupils would have the ability to mesmerize a mere mortal, but I have more self-control than that.
At least I thought I did until I hear her say my name, making me realize she’s been talking and I haven’t heard a single word she has said.
“What?” I opt to look over her shoulder because I know my own limitations and watching her mouth while she speaks wouldn’t work out in my favor either.
“I said I have an appointment.” I can read the smirk in her tone, but I still don’t look at her face. “I’m going to grab a quick shower. You can drive me.”
I narrow my eyes as she walks away, hating myself that I can’t look away from her curvy ass. Hating her for somehow managing to be a seductress even with her back to me.
It’s a game. She’s playing with me. It’s only another ploy to distract me enough to get away and do something stupid enough to get me fired.
Fired may be the best way to go. I doubt Deacon would fire me for a single incident. So long as Remington survives unscathed from whatever her latest hijinks are, I think I’ll still be okay.
I give her two minutes to get upstairs before heading up to grab a quick shower myself.
Her quick shower isn’t quick. I mean, I don’t know a person alive that would consider an hour and a half quick, but I don’t complain when she shows her face again. Only a fool would complain when she walks into the kitchen looking and smelling like a million bucks. Her hair falls in perfect waves around her shoulders, light and dark streaks of perfection, looking like corn silk. I keep my distance when she walks past even though every cell in my body is urging me to bend closer as she walks by to get a whiff.