Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 61160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
As I underlined a spot called Pike Place Market, Dillon stepped in front of my desk.
“Your brother and sister just baked some throne succession biscuits with heads on them,” he said, showing me the fugliest sweets I’d ever seen. “According to them, you’re right after your father.”
“I’m more than aware of that.” I rolled my eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He bit off the one with my head. “Priscilla and Charlie are so much nicer than you.”
“They’re also a lot more brainwashed.”
He smiled. He hated my family as much as I did, and he’d helped me with a lot of my upcoming plans.
“Tell me something, Dillon,” I said. “If I told you that I wanted to fly to Seattle undetected for a few nights this week, how can you help me?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s risky and nearly impossible,” he said. “I’d have to charter a private jet, make tons of arrangements, and break every staff member rule in the book.”
“I’m not asking you as a staff member,” I said. “I’m asking you as my one and only friend.”
He sighed, shooting me a look of sympathy.
“How long do you think I can get away?” I asked.
“One night, probably. A full day if we’re lucky.”
“That’s it?”
“Maybe an extra six to twelve hours after that,” he said. “If you were ugly like your brother, I’d get you an entire week because no one would want you.”
I gave him a blank stare. “Is that a ‘yes’ to you helping me or not?”
“It’s a ‘yes,’ but I have a few questions.”
“I’m listening.”
“Give me a reason,” he said. “Why can’t this wait until months from now?”
“I want to get a true feel for the city before I permanently move there.”
“Give me the real reason.”
“I’d like to celebrate my birthday a few weeks early. I want to enjoy it for myself.”
“I’m giving you one last chance to not insult my intelligence.”
“I’d like to find someone to fuck, so I can finally bring my dry spell to an end.”
“Thank you.” He rolled his eyes. “In that case, no bars or parties with over twenty people inside, and a mandatory sightseeing tour, since you probably won’t have time to do that for a while. Any other requests that might get me axed?”
“I’d like a car while I’m there. I want to drive it myself.”
“That’s out of the question.”
“I know how to drive, Dillon.”
“Here in London, sure,” he said. “They drive on the right side of the road in the States.”
“It can’t be that much of a difference.”
“Right…” He tapped his chin. “I’ll arrange a car for you, but I’ll follow your every move, along with six members of a security team, a doctor, and one other staff member.”
“Four security members, no doctor, and no other staff members.”
“Tyler…”
“I can barely tolerate that shit here, and we’ve already discussed how I won’t tolerate it whenever I leave for good.”
Silence.
“What about a nurse instead of a doctor?” he asked.
“Deal.”
He pulled out his cell phone and tapped the screen. “I’ll call in a few favors from hotels and businesses, but you have to be ready to leave within the next three days for this to work.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“By the way, your father told the press that you have a late-night cafe date with that Denmark princess you’re supposedly in love with,” he said. “Your sister is planning to lure you out to get you there, and I’m not supposed to tell you any of this.”
For fuck’s sake …
“You know what?” I shut my brochure. “How about we make plans to leave for Seattle a little earlier?”
“Define a little earlier.”
“Tonight.”
Dry Spells & Fairytales
Chloe
Across the pond
Seattle, Washington
What the hell am I doing with my life?
How can I reincarnate into someone else for a re-do?
I was twelve hours away from turning thirty years old, and I had nothing—absolutely nothing—to show for it. My credit score was far too terrible to even dream about buying a car, my apartment set the standard for the word “shithole,” and my dating life existed through my extensive collection of romance books. (And my top drawer of outdated vibrators.)
As Seattle’s morning tram coasted along the tracks, I pulled out the latest cover of Audio World—tracing the edges of my best friend Kristin’s smile. With her ‘Single at Thirty’ podcast, she was now the top female podcaster in the country, and this was her fourth cover feature this month.
Don’t compare yourself, Chloe. Don’t you dare compare…
I set it aside and pulled out another magazine, this month’s edition of Bon Apetit. Under the headline, “Meet The Owner of the Sexiest Ice Cream Shop in the Country,” my other best friend—Madison—winked at the camera.
My besties were a full year younger than me, appearing in media outlets left and right, and the only magazine cover I’d ever graced was the one my seventh-grade enemy published: Fugly Ass Bitches of Central Middle School.