Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 62056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
My stomach twists in dread when I see an official email from Smut Fantasies Inc. There's a PDF file attached to it, and just like I feared, it's an air-tight contract between SFI and me.
I skim its contents in hopes of finding a loophole that would allow me to back out from willfully participating in its beta stage, but all I find is a penalty clause that I would never be able to afford.
How can you be so stupidly drunk, Leah Raptis?
I chew on my lip as I start pacing the length of my room. I know I can always ask for Andie's help, but if I do that, she'd be forced to let "both" of her daddies know she broke her word.
Think, Leah, think.
Karen's last bit of advice flashes in my mind, and my steps come into an abrupt stop.
I tried a lot of things, but honestly? You know what worked the most?
SEX.
There's honestly nothing like lots and lots and lots of sex to make you forget everything except what you're feeling.
I know it's absolutely blasphemous to even think that my predicament is heaven sent, but...can I just fool myself into thinking that all of this is still part of His plan?
Five
Stanhope Medical Center of Miami was already bustling with activity when Joelle walked past its doors at half-past seven. Even though she still had thirty minutes to kill before her shift officially started, Joelle wasn't surprised to find all the lights already on when she reached the clinic she worked in.
"You're late," her world-famous, internationally acclaimed surgeon boss drawled as he straightened off the doorway of his consultation room.
"No, I'm not." Joelle perched her butt on the high-backed stool behind the reception counter. "You just have a habit of coming to work freakishly early, which is so not my fault."
Her cousin only grunted, and Joelle studied him surreptitiously while she started sorting through the dozen or so letters and invitations addressed to Dr. Adam Al-Masri.
Adam would've usually said something mean by now, and the fact that he didn't was telling.
Two years had already passed since Cora Mitchell's death. The woman had been in her seventies, and it was by account of her age that various top surgeons had refused to operate on her. Adam had been her last hope, and while he was the type of man who would've willingly risked his reputation for a chance to save his patient—-
He had never been given the chance to do so, and all because his girlfriend in secret had bribed his assistant of five years to refuse new cases on the night of their anniversary.
Adam had not wasted time breaking up with Ilona and firing his assistant after what happened, and while it might seem to most other people he had moved on since then, it was here in his clinic, which Adam considered his most sacred space, that he stopped wearing a mask to hide his grief.
Joelle had been frequently tempted to ask him if he wanted to talk, but she had always decided against it in the end. She had known Adam since they were kids, and so she could understand why a perfectionist like him continued to hold himself accountable for what happened.
Still, she didn't think what he was doing was healthy. As a doctor, Adam had to know that drowning himself in work wasn't an effective long-term solution. At the rate he was keeping himself busy, it was only a matter of time before exhaustion forced him into making a costly mistake in the operating room.
Adam could sense his cousin's growing restlessness as Joelle peeked at him now and then. "Just spit it out, Jo."
Joelle looked at him in chagrin. "I'm sure you already know what I'm going to say, but...whatever. I'm still going to say it anyway."
As always, his little cousin was unable to resist the opportunity to nag at him.
"I know you still hold yourself accountable for what happened to your patient, and I get that. However...I think you also know yourself that it's unhealthy to keep dwelling in the past."
Joelle could see her words had hit a nerve, and this encouraged her to continue with her point. "Find a new hobby, a girlfriend, or even a one-night stand if that's all you're willing to commit to. It's not like you to waste your time brooding," Joelle pointed out, "and whether you admit it or not, that's what you've been doing the past two months."
Adam was saved from replying when the hospital's paging system sounded out.
"Dr. Adam Al-Masri, please report to the E.R. immediately."
All thoughts outside work were immediately pushed aside when he ended up performing emergency surgery, and Joelle had already left for lunch by the time he returned to his clinic.
His cousin's words came back to him as he settled behind his desk, and a grim frown marred his forehead.