Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 63289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“Why would he do that for me?”
“He probably likes you.”
“But, I don’t even know him—”
“Yet, he clearly wants to get to know you.” Horace rubbed his hands together. “Oh, this is excellent. Money. Money. Money.”
“Calm down, Horace.”
“Don’t you want to eventually start your charity organization for underprivileged kids, HeArt—healing through art?”
“True.”
Shi pulled out her phone and began typing in it.
Horace tapped on the invitation. “This will be the key to getting money for your charity. Vanderbilt is a big philanthropist. He loves giving money to the downtrodden and needy. That’s the whole reason for this Gala. The wealthy come together at his manor for his famous silent auction full of extravagant things—luxury trips, yachts, and priceless art. He gets them to give out tons of money. Then, everyone gets absolutely blasted and dances the night away.”
I tapped my fingers on the desk. “I don’t know. I’m busy for the next few months. Summer’s coming soon and that means summer book sales and tons of promoting.”
“You’re going.” Horace pointed at me. “Think of HeArt.”
If Horace was ever going to convince me to do something that didn’t deal with writing, then that would be it.
My single mother had raised me in a low-income neighborhood. She worked two jobs—cleaning people’s houses during the day and being a part-time 911 dispatcher at night. She didn’t have much money, but every week no matter what, she brought a new book home and we would read it together.
From her, I learned that one could escape the horror of their surroundings with a good book.
Additionally, it was my English teacher, Mrs. Snell who was also dedicated to my educational growth and introduced me to the joys of writing.
If it weren’t for Mrs. Snell and my mother, only God knew where I would be.
Later, I went to college and worked as a librarian afterward. I never gave up my love for reading and writing.
Finally, at thirty, I wrote my first book and grabbed Horace as my agent. He sold it in a year to a big publisher. By then, I’d written another novel that he sold too.
Five years passed, and I had twenty books published, hit the bestseller’s lists for several publications, and earned many awards.
I even retired my mother from both jobs and bought her a little house in a nice part of town overlooking the ocean.
But, I still didn’t feel like I had truly reached the success I craved.
I wanted to give back to others, to use my financial power to help the people in my old neighborhood. Money could do a lot—improve living conditions and provide job opportunities. It could change the lives of many.
I just needed that one book that propelled me to the top, that got me a movie or TV deal and real royalty checks.
Or. . .Vanderbilt could help. . .
“You have to do it, Maya.” Horace rubbed his hands again. “Ethan Vanderbilt is old money, and there’s clearly a reason why he invited you.”
“Wow.” Shi showed me her phone. “This is him.”
I glanced at the picture.
Damn.
Ethan Vanderbilt’s handsomeness was undeniable. In this picture, he wore a fine-tailored black suit with a white shirt and lusty red tie. His face was clean-shaven. His chiseled features could have been cut from marble. His short brown hair was stylishly tousled back.
He looked to be a tall man. I guessed a little over six feet tall. His shoulders were broad, his jaw square, and his skin a tanned olive color. He was handsome in a way that told me he was definitely born to money and power, and due to that took excellent care of himself.
“Well,” I had to admit. “He is not bad to look at.”
Shi slid her finger across the screen.
Other pictures showed Ethan mingling with famous actors and celebrities. I even spotted a picture of him with the Prince of England.
And he sent this heart puzzle to me? Why? How the hell does he know me?
For some reason, this all made me nervous. I wasn’t accustomed to catching the attention of men, but definitely not one of his caliber.
I twisted my lips to the side. “I could go for a little bit and then get back to the house to write.”
“Or you could take the night off and have some fun.” Horace picked up the invitation. “It says you can bring someone. Very interesting. Is he wondering if you have someone to bring? Is it a test?”
I turned to Shi. “Do you want to go?”
Shock hit her face. “Me?”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “It’s either you or my mother—”
“Please, not your mother.” Horace waved my comment away. “I love your mother, but she’ll spend the whole night talking about Jesus and really dampening the fabulous effects of expensive alcohol.”
I glanced at the invitation in his hand. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“You must.” Horace placed it back on the desk. “In fact, I’ll be your ride. I already rented a limousine to take Ryan and me. We had your bestie, Claire coming along with us. Her and her unnecessarily filthy rich husband.”