Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
“Sabastian Gabris?”
Tyler slowly peeked at Leandro’s face and almost gaped at the other man’s look of puzzlement. Oh dear Lord – did that mean everyone but Leandro Christopoulos knew about Sabastian Gabris?
“We have been rivals in the past,” Leandro said. “But I don’t see what he has to do with me now.”
Before Tyler could figure out how to answer that, another reporter was already handing Leandro an iPad. Tyler caught a glimpse of what was on the screen and gulped at the headlines.
SABASTIAN GABRIS AND BOBBY GRANGER – SECRETLY DATING?
Someone yelped in the crowd.
It was the owner of the iPad and when Tyler looked back at Leandro, he realized with a wince that the billionaire’s grip had been so strong he had left a very visible dent on the screen.
Leandro Christopoulos slowly forced his fingers to loosen its grip on the iPad and handed it back to its unfortunate owner. “You will be compensated for that,” he heard himself murmuring before swiftly turning around and heading to the side doors of the church.
The crowd of reporters protested loudly, shouting questions and complaining about him not keeping his word.
The noise they made was deafening, but Leandro didn’t really hear a word of what they were saying. All he was aware of right now was Bobby. His Bobby. His Bobby, caught on camera in the arms of another man.
His chest felt like it was caving in at the tortuous pain the image evoked.
No. Fuck no. It couldn’t fucking be true.
Chapter One
INHALE, EXHALE.
“You can do this,” Roberta “Bobby” Granger muttered as she gave her reflection a Mean Look in the mirror. People who worked for her always told Bobby her Mean Looks were very effective, that they were so scary it forced everyone to do what she wanted. Hopefully, her Mean Look would also work on her stubborn heart.
The sudden loud banging on the door made Bobby jump. “Jeez, Bobby, are you doing Number 2 or what?”
No. She was not doing Number 2. What she was doing was Number Zero, which meant she was this close to drowning herself in the toilet bowl until she choked and died. That was a lot better than what – who – waited for her outside.
“Bobby!”
She took another deep breath. “You can do this, Bobby. You’re a strong woman. You can’t be affected. You don’t love him anymore.” And today was the most important day to prove it.
F looked at her oddly as she emerged from the powder room. “Are you okay?”
F wasn’t his real name, but it was how her boss wanted to be called. According to society gossip, F stood for three things: French, Fashion, and “Fuck You”, which the sixty-something self-made millionaire liked to say to every lazy-ass individual he happened to meet.
“Bobby?”
No, of course she was not freaking okay. She had just found out that her ex-boyfriend was in America when all this time, she thought an entire ocean still stood between them. How the hell could she be okay? She needed that much space from him to survive. And now, that space was gone.
But out loud all she said was, “I’m really fine. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” She had her pride, after all.
“Truthfully, Bobby, between Nessa and me, it wouldn’t be too hard to pick the bikers for the opening act before the race.”
Today was the last day of auditions for bikers to make up their next fundraiser’s opening act, and Bobby’s conscience wouldn’t allow her to bail at the last minute, knowing Nessa and F’s weakness for sexy men in leather. “I can’t trust the two of you to do this right. You’d probably end up picking the hottest-looking bikers and never mind if the only kind of bike they can ride are those with training wheels.”
F harrumphed. “You wound me.” Her boss started walking, leaving Bobby no choice but to reluctantly fall into step next to him. Each step made it more difficult for her to breathe. She started to wonder if he would feel the same at the thought of meeting her again, after all this time, but pushed the thought away a moment later.
Just because they were now both on the same continent didn’t mean he was back in her life again.
He wasn’t.
He couldn’t ever be again.
Before exiting the dugout, F’s steps halted and when she looked at him questioningly, he said in a more sober tone, “I’m serious, Bobby. I thought you knew since the news came out last night—-”
She explained tonelessly, “I was asleep when the news broke out. And by the time I realized...he was here, I just couldn’t make myself...” Bobby inhaled deeply. “I just don’t want him to think I’m still affected.”
Not wanting to talk anymore about The Person Who Didn’t Deserve to be Named, Bobby took the first step out of the dugout. Harsh afternoon sunlight immediately blazed down on her, and she shielded her gaze as if the brightness was hurting her eyes. In truth, however, she just wanted a moment to compose herself – a moment to school her expression so that every darn reporter zealously waiting for her to react would have nothing to gossip about.