Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 91767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
I smirk and sip my coffee.
“Okay, back to business.” He picks up his pen. “Why are we here?”
“Graham and I used to run a human resources company together and when we separated we split the company in two. We are now in direct competition with each other and this weekend is a decider for the biggest account we had.”
He furiously scribbles. “Tell me about this account.”
“It’s for Gaynor Reynolds, she has seven thousand employees that she runs through a company and it’s up for tender. A five-year contract that will be worth an absolute fortune.”
His eyes rise to meet mine, “Female?”
“Yes.”
“French?”
“Yes.”
He smirks, “You’re already a front runner for this account.”
“Why is that?”
“French women are my specialty.”
I giggle at his confidence. “Well if you can schmooze your way into winning this for us please be my guest.”
“Okay.” He keeps scribbling. “Company name?”
“Of what?”
“Gaynor’s company, I need to research her.”
“Reynolds.”
He keeps scribbling. “Okay so…. Why did you and Graham split?”
I stay silent, the words too painful to say out loud.
His eyes rise to meet mine.
“He met someone else,” I force out.
“Well….” He gives me a big, beautiful smile. “More fool him.”
He writes the words.
Make Him Pay
He underlines it twice.
I squirm in my chair with embarrassment.
“So, tell me about you.” He sits back in his chair as he holds his pen in his hand.
“Not much to tell.”
“How many boyfriends have you had since the split?”
I exhale, unable to answer.
He frowns. “You haven’t?”
I give a subtle shake of my head.
“How is that possible? A woman as beautiful as you would be fighting them off.”
“With a stick.” I widen my eyes.
He stares at me for a beat as if thinking. “So….”
“So, what?”
“Do you always dress like this?”
I glance down at myself. “Like what?”
“Mumsy.”
My mouth falls open in horror. “This is not mumsy, this is designer.”
“Designer mumsy.” He stands. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To your room, I need to go through your clothes for the weekend.”
“What?”
“You need to look irresistible and designer mumsy is not fucking cutting it.”
Fifteen minutes later he peruses my outfits that are all laid out on my bed.
“No.” He picks up a dress and throws it on the floor. “No.” Throws another one off. “No, no, no. Absolutely fucking not.”
I put my hands on my hips, indignant. “These are new clothes. I was told by the saleswomen they are the highest of current fashion.”
“Yeah well…. That saleswomen fucked you up the ass. Let’s go.”
“To where?”
“Shopping.”
Half an hour later we arrive at Le Bon Marché and Thomas walks in front of me at speed. “Hurry up, woman.”
“What’s the rush?” I call as I try to keep up.
“We have to buy new clothes and get your hair done; we don’t have much time.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?”
“Sweetheart.” He crumples up his nose. “Don’t talk.”
My mouth falls open in horror. “You’re being obnoxious, Thomas.”
“It’s my specialty.” He keeps walking and goes to the information stall. “Bonjour, avez-vous un personal shopper disponible ?”
The woman smiles, “Laisse-moi vérifier.” She types into her computer.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“She’s checking if there is a personal shopper available.”
“What?” I screw up my face. “I don’t need a personal shopper, I’ll just pick something myself.”
He widens his eyes. “I saw what you picked last time.”
Ugh… this man is pissing me off, I cross my arms in a huff.
“Phillipe va s’occuper de vous.” She smiles.
“Merci.” He smiles.
“What did she say?” I ask.
“Phillipe is coming now.”
“A man?” I whisper, horrified. “I don’t want a man to style me.”
“I told you not to talk, remember?” he whispers.
“Bonjour,” a man says from behind us.
“Hello.” I smile awkwardly, well isn’t this just the most cringey moment of my life.
A man I am paying to spend the weekend with me asking another man to style me because I am mumsy…and I don’t even have fucking kids.
This is just great.
“How can I help you both today?” the man says in English, he smiles as he looks between us. Gorgeous and stylish, he’s definitely in the right job.
“Bonjour,” Thomas says. “Elizabeth has a weekend work conference and unfortunately her douche ex-husband will be there and basically…we need to bring the fucker to his knees.”
Phillipe nods and circles me as he looks me over. “Something…. More….”
“Sexy.” Thomas cuts him off.
“Less baggy…more fitted.”
“Precisely.” Thomas looks around, “Is there a hair salon in here?”
“Oui.”
“Can you try and squeeze her in for an appointment?”
“Of course.”
Thomas smiles. “I’ll leave you two to it.” He glances at his watch. “How long?”
“I’m going to need a few hours,” Phillipe replies.
He kisses me quickly on the cheek. “I’m going to go and get a massage, I’ll be back for you later.”
“Okay.”
“She needs lingerie too,” Thomas adds. “Something pretty and feminine. Super seductive.”
“Of course.”
I feel my face blush with embarrassment, I just want the earth to swallow me whole, two gorgeous men working out what I should wear while I clearly have no idea about anything.