Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Then my heart sinks when it’s not her.
This girl is blonde.
I have developed a sudden distaste for blondes. I know who I want. I’ve found my girl and she’s no blonde. In fact, it was a blonde that took her from me.
Francois leans next to my ear. “Don’t walk out and offend them now. We’ve got so much invested. If you fuck this up, it’s not just you that will lose.”
I don’t give a flying fuck.
I want to yell it out. Instead, seething, I face the men and force a stiff smile.
In a way, I owe them.
If they weren’t tardy, whoremongering narcissists, who wanted to meet in a fucking bar I’d never have met Chastity.
I take a deep breath, resolving to finish the business at hand in as short an order as possible.
But all I’m really thinking about is her.
I’ll find her. Even if it’s the last thing I do.
Chapter 2
Chastity
Diary Entry Six PM Today
Dear Diary,
I will probably be too tired to write when I get home. Another Friday night out with Sasha and the work crew. I’m not looking forward to it. I don’t even know why I go.
I think sometimes Sasha is so nice to me or is my ‘friend’ because when I’m next to her, I make her look even better.
Even at work. She’s taken lots of my ideas already and made them out to be hers. Oh well, that’s not a “poor me” moment, it’s just an observation, but what is more telling is this: why do I hang out with her if that’s what I think? I need to re-boot myself or something.
I rushed home from work to change clothes, and I need to get way back over to The Trojan Horse in Mid-town. Just paying the Uber every time we go out puts a huge dent in my woeful back balance. I bet if I had a Daddy, he’d give me a stern talking to about letting people take advantage of me. He’d make sure I understood my own worth and when I faltered, he’d be there to shore me up. Probably a little punishment as well to keep me on track.
Le sigh. Dare to dream, right, Diary?
Anyway, I got a call from my dad (def not Daddy, ewwww, er um let’s call him father to be clear). So, I got a call from my father on the train ride home, which just reminded me why being here in New York alone is better than another summer living with people that treat me like I’m invisible most of the time. The most endearing thing my father says is to call me silly girl. Which translates into silly (stupid) girl…
Okay! I’m off. I’m wearing the new lavender dress I got at the thrift store. It’s way over the top for the kind of place we are going but I don’t care. I feel like a movie star when I wear it. One from the ‘golden age’ as they say. I think I was born a few generations too late. I don’t seem to quite fit in here in the 2020’s. This whole New York world is wow, it’s sooooo not West Virginia.
Sometimes I feel like Dorothy…Toto, I got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore…
Okay, okay! I’m really going now. Bye Diary. Wish me luck, there has to be a Daddy for me out there somewhere…maybe he will be what I find inside The Trojan Horse! LOL
xoxo
I feel like I’m in a dream as Sasha drags me from Jack.
At a table twenty feet away, my co-workers are throwing back shots like M&Ms.
I want to run back toward the bar. The dark-haired giant made my skin tingle the first moment I caught a glimpse of him helping that poor waiter. He looks evil in his own way, but that small act of kindness showed me something about who he is. Who he could be. The contrast is so sexy my butterflies have butterflies.
I went to the bar to order another drink just to see him up close and when I did, I never in a million years expected him to speak to me.
Being next to him, I was able to take in his magnificence. The way his shoulders filled out his dark suit in a way that shouldn’t be legal.
Or maybe it’s my thoughts that should be illegal.
I figured my fantasies of a special kind of man would stay just that, fantasies. But as soon as I looked at him, I felt like they could be reality. But, really, a man like him would never understand the filthy things I think about when I touch myself. The dreams and stories I only tell my diary.
But now, the faceless man in my dreams has taken full form. Jack is what I will see from now on when I think of him.