Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
This was the fucking twilight zone. A delirious giggle bubbled up my throat, but I managed to swallow it down just in time and gave a nod. Might as well follow along to figure out what the hell was going on.
We walked past the bar, and I studied the two men talking to the bartender, trying to see if anyone else looked familiar. I watched every person until we reached the back corner, and I saw a face as familiar as my own.
Kent.
Immediately, I smiled, barely holding back the urge to run and throw myself in his arms. He looked ridiculously handsome in his suit, lounging back in his chair, listening to two other men sitting with him.
“Hey, baby,” I greeted once we reached his table. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
Conversation ceased, and I waited for him to stand and wrap me in his arms. Except, when he turned, his eyes lacked the warmth I’d been expecting, and his tone was just as cold. “Excuse me?”
Was he mad? Did it have something to do with the men he was with? Did he not want me to interrupt his meeting? Was he embarrassed of me? What was going on? Questions fired one after the other, and before I could get a single one out, he continued.
“I don’t know how you didn’t know I’d be here when I was the one that asked you to attend this meeting so we could discuss your position at the company.”
“What?” I glanced toward the other men, wondering if they were as thrown as me. If they were, they hid it well behind arrogant confidence as they dragged their eyes up and down my body. My eyes shot to Kent, sure that he wouldn’t approve, only to find him doing the same.
Wait…
I recalled the letter in the box. Alexander.
Was this a scene?
His gaze caressed over my breasts and up my neck to finally look at me with the melting heat I was used to. His eyes flashed with fire before turning cold again. “And we talked about our policy with your hair. It should be up at all times. You look like a whore with it down.”
Smack.
The word slapped me across the face.
What the fuck did he just say to me?
I took a step forward. “Listen, I do—”
“Now,” he interjected. “If you would like to stop wasting our time, Miss Witt, please take a seat. Cane and Ryan have taken time from their families to meet with us.”
Swallowing my objection, I pulled my shoulders back and made sure to look down my nose at all of them as I claimed the last seat.
Kent lifted his glass and sipped from the amber liquid, not once taking his eyes off me.
“Am I allowed to have a glass of wine, or does that classify me as a whore, too?”
He tried to hide it, but I caught the way his lip twitched—a break in his cold demeanor.
“Seeing as how you just turned nineteen last month, I don’t think that would be appropriate,” Ryan explained.
His voice sent a chill up my spine, sparking a memory to life.
Voyeur. In New York.
I met his piercing blue gaze, stark against his dark hair, and remembered watching him perform a scene at the club. Kent had taken me there and let me pick out any scene I wanted for our anniversary while he saw how many times he could make me come before it was over.
Ryan was a performer.
So was the host who sat me, I finally realized.
They all were.
The pieces lined up, clicking in place.
Kent set this up—for me. To make up for me missing the Christmas event. He promised he would months ago, but so much had happened that I forgot.
Happiness, love, gratitude, and every single emotion in between damn near bubbled over, but somehow, I kept it under control. I’d embrace them later. For now, I didn’t want to do anything to ruin the evening my husband created just for me—for us.
“Fine,” I said, picking up where we left off. “So, what would you like to discuss, Mister…”
“Alexander,” he answered. “You can call me Alexander tonight.”
“Okay, Alexander.”
Another twitch of his lips, except this time it lacked any humor. The fire in his eyes flared like the devil lived in their depths, just waiting to come out and play.
“As you know, we took you on as an intern as a favor to your late aunt. However, the work you do is not quite necessary for the office to function. Leaving us paying an extra employee who barely works.”
“I do work,” I defended.
“You get coffee and make copies,” Cane explained, his green eyes mocking me.
“It’s not enough,” Ryan added, his blue eyes turning glacial. “We’ve discussed it, and despite the situation of you needing the money to pay off your aunt’s debt, it’s not in our best interest to keep you on.”