Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
When we land, he hands us both our bags and our luggage is already waiting in the black sedan that has the words Bellagio across the back. “I thought the summit was at Caesars.”
“It is, which is why I’m not staying there. I never stay at the event space. It’s just too much.”
“Is it because if you bring a woman to your room, it’s harder to get rid of her?” I ask, and he chuckles but doesn’t deny it. “Such a guy.”
I get into the back seat, trying not to let the thought of him bringing a girl to his room bother me or the fact that maybe he might be doing this on this trip. “You okay?” he asks when he slides in beside me.
“Yes,” I lie to him, “just hungry.” Which is the furthest thing from the truth. I’m so sick to my stomach that eating will make me yack everywhere.
“We’ll go get a quick lunch before we have to check in at the summit,” he suggests, and I look out the window. Checking in to the hotel goes smoothly. We are both on the same floor, side by side. Great, I think, not only will I have to know if he’s with a girl in his room but I’ll also be able to hear it through the walls.
I stop at my door and see his door is literally right beside mine. “How long will you be?” he asks, and I look back at him. “Until you are ready for lunch.”
“I just have to fish out my purse, and I’ll be ready to go. Should I change? Are you changing?”
“I’m changing after lunch,” he tells me. I nod, scan the card, and hear the click of the lock. “Be out in a minute.” He walks into his room at the same time I walk into mine, and both doors close with a slam after us.
Luckily for me, lunch is interrupted by phone calls from Caine and a couple from his parents, all of whom are not coming to this summit but want to give their input. When we get back to our rooms, he looks over at me. “How long will it take you to change?”
“Ten minutes,” I reply, “maybe twelve if I have to iron my skirt.”
“Whoever is finished first knocks,” he says, “and then waits for them in the other room.”
I roll my eyes and push open the door, making sure I don’t dillydally, just to make sure when he knocks, I’m ready to go. I rush over to my bag, picking it up and tossing it on the bed. My outfit for today is on top as I bend to untie the ankle strap to my wedges before kicking them off. I grab the white linen, wide-legged pants, shaking them out and seeing they didn’t wrinkle, and then the silk top I folded in two also doesn’t look like it needs to be ironed. “Score,” I cheer to myself, going to the bathroom before undressing and then slipping into my outfit. The silk top has long sleeves and big cuffs at the wrists, with two sashes at the neck that tie into a bow before the cleavage starts. I tuck the shirt into the high-waisted linen pants, then turn to grab the shoes out of the other side of the carry-on. The strappy gold heels finish the look, and I’m grabbing my purse when there is a knock on the door. “I win,” he declares with glee in his voice, and his smile turns into a frown when I open the door and he sees me ready. “Fuck, it’s been seven minutes.”
“I got lucky, I guess.” I put my phone in my purse before walking out with him.
“It’s a seven-minute walk.” Nash looks at me and then my shoes. “Do we need to cab it?”
“For seven minutes?” I ask. “You know I live in New York, right? I could run in these shoes and only at the end of the night would I complain.”
“Good to know.” He winks at me, then looks back down at the shoes. “Those should be illegal at work.”
“Umm, your assistant was wearing almost the same thing yesterday,” I point out, and his eyebrows pinch together.
“Okay, I amend my statement. You shouldn’t be wearing those at the office.”
I scoff, walking side by side with him, trying to think of something to say, but all the words are jumbled in my head, along with whether he ever hooked up with his assistant. Do they have the friends-with-benefits deal? The real question is, why do I even fucking care?
I see what he’s talking about the minute we step into Caesars. He’s stopped about five times, and every time, he takes the opportunity to introduce me to whoever stopped him. I smile politely, shaking their hand and listening to their conversations.