Meet Me at Midnight Read Online Max Monroe

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden, Funny, New Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
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Me: Avery, we did have Monday off. It’s Tuesday.

I roll my eyes and start to slide my phone back into my pocket to concentrate on the meeting—okay, on Beau—but when it vibrates again in my hand, I glance at the screen.

Avery: Well, then they definitely should’ve given us today off too. I barely had enough time to fit in my hydration IV this morning.

Me: Hydration IV this morning? Wait… I thought you said you went back to the condo to fix your hair?

Avery: I did. While Carlton was giving me my IV. Anyway, you want a mani/pedi too? I can add you to the schedule. Oh! Maybe you need a massage? You do seem really stressed…

Me: I’m stressed because it’s the first day of our intern job at YOUR DAD’S company, and even though we both left the condo at the same time, you’re still not here because you’re doing hydration IVs and Starbucks and shit.

Avery: You sure you don’t want a Starbucks?

Me: OH MY GOD. NO.

Avery: I’m definitely scheduling you a massage. Be at the office in like 10 min. Love you!

Clearly, I’m not leaving work at noon to go get a freaking massage, but it’s not even worth explaining that to Avery. Instead, I go back to focusing on the meeting and taking notes—and how Beau’s eyes look like dark honey beneath the conference room’s lights.

I scan my bullet point list about all things Midnight as one of Marcus Hughes’s many minions continues to explain logistical details about profile settings and sign-up options.

Users create a profile and pick a profile name to stay anonymous within the app.

They can search for users to chat with by interests, location, and sexual orientation.

Once a user decides they want to chat with another user, they’ll obtain a Dream Code that will create a private chat room for both users.

That chat room stays active unless one of the users decides to leave it.

Once a user exits the chat, all records of the chat are deleted.

Users can send pictures, videos, and voice memos in the chat room. They can even choose to do a video call, if they desire.

The app keeps all users’ information anonymous. Only the profile name is available.

The app has advanced safety and security that keeps all email addresses and other info associated with a profile private. The app also prevents users from taking screenshots or saving the private chats.

Official launch date is spring of next year.

They want Banks & McKenzie to spend the next four months using the app personally and coming up with a campaign idea to pitch at the end of the year, and for as much as Beau seems excited about the possibility, Neil isn’t so certain.

“So, you don’t want to give us the contract, but you want us to show you a marketing plan?” Neil questions with a business-worthy smirk. “That’s a big ask, Marcus. Almost feels a little one-sided.”

“Yeah, Marcus,” Chris McKenzie, my other new boss, adds, having arrived about thirty minutes ago with his son Seth, another ad executive at the company, following behind him. “Feels like we’re doing a hell of a lot of legwork without any reward.”

Marcus grins like a guy who’s squeezed a few nuts over the years. Which makes sense, I guess—you don’t build a billion-dollar social media empire without twisting a few testicles. “Yeah, well, if you guys create a marketing plan we love for Midnight, we’ll be moving everything under the Hughes International umbrella over to you as well.”

“How many apps does that include?” Neil questions, but Beau answers before Marcus can.

“Thirty-five and counting.”

Marcus nods, impressed. “That’s correct.”

My pussycat contracts with a purr, captivated too. Gah, I am in so much trouble if I can’t find a way to rein myself in and soon.

Neil nods and taps his chin thoughtfully. “All right, then. I guess your Yale education did a decent job of teaching you risk and reward system management.”

“Yeah, well. Not everyone can spend their formative years chasing tail in the sun of the University of Miami, Neil,” Marcus retorts, his playful take on snobbery hitting above the belt quite nicely. The whole room smiles, despite just about all of us being graduates of U of M. “You’re on board?”

“We’re on board,” Chris McKenzie agrees. “And come January 1st, Banks & McKenzie will have all of Hughes International under our umbrella.”

Marcus chuckles. “Love the confidence, Chris.”

“Oh, it’s not confidence, Marcus. It’s fact.”

The conference call ends shortly after that, and as Neil and Chris open the room up for questions, Avery slides in like a water moccasin—head held high above the water and completely devoid of shame. She’s wearing the nude Louboutins she bought at Saks, carrying her latest Birkin bag, and showcasing a matching cream Chanel tweed jacket and skirt that would make most people want to puke over the price tag.



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