Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“You seem surprised when she hasn’t really hidden her ambition,” Tom noted cautiously.
“You didn’t sit on Pebble Beach with her for three hours staring at the lights of Manhattan and talking about how overrated Quentin Tarantino is, how the Supreme Court should have term limits, arguing whether surfing and hiking or living the city life walking everywhere was better exercise, and everything else you can think of to get to know someone who’s gorgeous, smart as fuck, interesting as hell, and surprisingly funny.”
“Right,” Tom said quietly.
“I’m getting another drink. You need one?” Hale asked.
“Hale—”
He knew that fatherly tone. He loved that tone. He loved Tom. He could talk to him about anything. And did.
But…
“Now’s not the time, Tommy,” he said.
“Okay. Mika and I are in New York for a while. Come over for dinner before you leave.”
“Will do.”
Tom’s expression changed. “I mean it, Hale. Don’t blow me off. We have more to talk about than a promising date turning sour.”
For a moment, Hale was concerned Jamie had told Tom about the emails.
That was something he didn’t want Tom to know. Not only because they’d stopped coming, but because Tom would worry. He’d tell Genny. Genny would worry more. Genny might then tell Chloe, and Chloe would lose her mind and leave no stone unturned in finding whoever was sending that shit and then going about neutralizing them.
It happened a lot, keyboard warriors doing and saying shit they shouldn’t. It wasn’t that big of a deal.
And again, the particular emails that raised alarms had stopped coming.
“You’re busier than ever, son. Running yourself ragged,” Tom remarked. “I’m concerned. But we’ll talk. Not now, at dinner.”
“I’m fine,” Hale assured.
“I don’t agree,” Tom returned.
“Okay, we’ll talk about it,” Hale gave in. Then asked with unhidden disquiet, “Have I been blowing you off?”
“You’ve canceled the last three times we’ve had plans. I haven’t spent any quality time with you in months. And Christmas doesn’t count, because I had to share you with everyone else, but I’ll note you were only in Prescott for two days during the holiday.”
Tom lifted a hand and curled it around the side of Hale’s neck in a gesture that was beloved, and familiar.
Because Tom had done it before.
Often.
And someone else had too.
Once.
“You’re my boy, Hale,” Tom told him. “I don’t allow any of my children to be disconnected for this long.”
Even though he knew those words were true because Tom had proved it time and again, Hale had to clear his throat before he replied, “Promise. I’ll be at your and Mika’s table before I have to leave town.”
Tom gave him a squeeze, murmured, “Good,” and let him go. Then he said, “And yes to the drink. Could you get Mika one too? She’s on champagne.”
“Got it.”
Tom moved to find Mika.
Hale’s eyes moved to find Elsa.
And he saw her cozied up to top-ranking tennis player, Dougal Baldwin, with Baldwin’s arm extended (the one he didn’t have wrapped around Elsa), taking a selfie of the two of them.
The arm came down, but the other one didn’t leave her waist as he turned to Elsa and handed her the phone, but neither of them moved away. Dougal was up in her space, smiling, and it was clearly flirtatious.
Fucking hell.
Hale headed straight to the bar.
The next two hours were excruciating, and not only because he hated events like this. He didn’t like the restriction of a tuxedo. He didn’t like pressing the flesh. He didn’t like being openly available for anyone to get a piece of him, be it someone who wanted to bend his ear about some business shit, or a woman who wanted to hit her knees and suck his cock for bragging rights or whatever she’d do with the experience.
And that night, he didn’t like watching Elsa work the room with expertise, Dougal, who happened to be her dinner partner, at her side most of the time.
It was after dinner and the live auction, when the silent auction was closing, and before Justice Lonesome and Stella Gunn were going to entertain them with an acoustic set.
This was a massive coup Mika scored, because Stella was front woman of the Blue Moon Gypsies, and Justice was a solo artist, and although they’d toured and performed together in the past, they’d never done an acoustic set like this.
People were milling about, dessert dishes were being cleared by staff, the bartenders were busy setting up guests with their next round, and even though he didn’t want to miss Justice and Stella, Hale was wondering if anyone would notice if he took off.
This was when it happened.
His mood was foul because he wanted out of there, and he still had hours left to endure.
And he wanted to get away from Elsa, who appeared to be having the time of her life, but hadn’t bothered in all her schmoozing to get anywhere near him.