Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Even worse, I have to remind myself not to get attached all the time. But I’m not sure my efforts are doing much good because I feel myself bubbling with joy at the smallest things, and it’s scary, to be honest. My time living in Mr. Montlake’s fancy apartment is quickly coming to an end, and I’m not sure what will happen afterwards. Of course, I’ll move back into my homey little studio, but it’s more than the physical environment. It’s that I’ll miss James, even if I wasn’t supposed to develop feelings for him to begin with.
But the billionaire seems totally at ease. He takes my hand as we approach the restaurant.
“I haven’t mentioned my brother?” he asks, tucking my hand into his elbow. “Well, we’re not super close, so that’s probably why. Luke’s my big bro, and he works at the family company too. By the way, I should let you know that my real last name isn’t Montlake,” he says with a rueful smile. “I just told City Girls that as an alias of sorts. My real last name is Montgomery.”
As if on cue, the hostess greets my date with a chirpy, “Welcome to Dominina’s, Mr. Montgomery. It’s good to see you again.”
I merely shake my head and murmur, “No, it’s okay. A lot of clients use fake names because granted, I’m not exactly in the most up-and-up business.”
James grins at me.
“Well, is your real name Simona Maybell?”
I giggle.
“It is. A few years ago, when I was a new girl, I thoughtlessly blurted my real name to a client, and after that it didn’t make sense to use an alias. I figure if someone really wants to find me, they can. After all, this is New York City,” I say.
James lets out a shout of laughter.
“Okay good. We’re on equal footing then. I’m James Fenimore Montgomery and you’re Simona Maybell.”
“Simona Ann Maybell,” I amend.
“Simona Ann,” he grins at me. “Very pretty.”
With that, we’re seated at the best table in the restaurant, and I look around, so thrilled to be with this man. Dominina’s décor is wild and zany, but in an elegant, modern way. There are pops of crimson and orange in an otherwise black, minimalist aesthetic, and flickering tea lights lend a cozy, intimate vibe.
“Knock yourself out, baby,” James rumbles. “Order anything you like from the menu. It’s all delicious. Oh, and by the way, it’s small,” he says.
I wrinkle my brow, confused.
“Small? This menu is definitely substantial,” I say, glancing in the leather-bound case.
He grins.
“No, I meant my family is small. It’s just me, my brother, and our mom. That’s it. My father died two years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” is my heartfelt reply. I reach across the table to squeeze his hand. “It must’ve been hard to lose him.”
“Thank you, princess,” he growls. But then James shakes his head ruefully. “Well, it’s technically more than the three of us now. My brother got married, so he has a wife now, and I have a niece too. Sorry, sometimes I forget because a lot of this happened while I was overseas.”
I laugh.
“I take it you don’t get along with your sister-in-law very well?”
He grins.
“No, she’s fine. It’s a little more complicated than that, but I’ll tell you the story another time. But how about you, baby girl? Do you have any siblings?”
I shake my head.
“Nope. After my parents had me, they decided they didn’t want to have anymore, I was that bad,” I giggle. “When I was little, I used to beg them to give me a little brother or sister to play with, but they got me a dog instead.”
He smiles warmly. “I’m sure you were absolutely adorable, sweetheart. But what kind of dog did they get you?”
I beam.
“A Jack Russell Terrier. He’s mostly brown except for markings on his face and paws, and actually, he still lives with my parents in Jersey. Here, let me show you a picture.” Like a doting mother, I whip my phone out of my purse and scroll through my camera roll until I find a recent one that my mom sent me. “There he is.” I show the screen to James. “I named him Eddie. Isn’t he cute?”
“Eddie,” James repeats, admiring the adorable pup. “Isn’t that the same as the Jack Russell Terrier from Frasier? The name suits him though.”
“Yeah, it is from Frasier. I think all Jack Russells should be named Eddie, just like all Scottish Terriers should be named Toto. It works, don’t you think?”
My lover grins at me fondly.
“It does, sweetheart. Anything you like.”
I smile, my heart melting. “Thank you. And I think I’d like to write a story about Eddie someday too.”
James nods with approval.
“I think you should,” he growls. “You’re good at everything you do, honey, and I’m sure this will be amazing too. But do you ever get homesick? You’re still young, baby, and just out of college.”