Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
She wore her hair parted down the middle, tucked behind her ears, in a cut that could only be achieved with a ruler.
A neutral expression decorated her face, her posture proud and linear.
“Good afternoon.” She sounded almost robotic. Not necessarily a bad thing for someone who wasn’t a fan of homo sapiens. “Zachary?”
Regrettably.
I did a slight bow, stepping aside and gesturing for her to come in. “Eileen.”
Every fiber in my body shriveled at the idea that she might try to hug or kiss me.
Thankfully, she marched inside with practiced ease, not bothering to glance my way as she placed her black Ferragamo studio bag on the credenza.
She removed her sensible heels, neatly arranged the Malone Souliers together, and tucked them beside the door.
An Hermès scarf wrapped around her throat, designed to shelter the delicate skin from the sun.
She unknotted it, retying the silk into a fashionable bracelet around her wrist.
I pressed my lips together, stifling a grimace. It was as if my mother had personally raised her.
“I won’t take too much of your time.” The words came out with practiced eased, as if they’d been spoken dozens of times. How many blind dates had Eileen suffered through to reach this level of robotic? “If you could lend me the necklace, I’ll be on my way. I’ll inform our mothers we conversed and reached the conclusion that our future plans do not align. I would, however, appreciate the necklace. There’s a St. Jude’s charity event this evening, and your mother will ask questions if I don’t wear it.”
I wanted nothing more than to send her on her merry way, out of my life with that necklace.
But I’d made a promise to marry Mom’s chosen bride, and Eileen was the entire package. A piñata of good manners and superior upbringing.
“Would you like a tour of the house first?” I asked through gritted teeth. “You’ve made it all the way here, after all.”
We stood about eight feet from each other, neither of us eager to bridge the distance.
“Oh, really. I don’t wish to impose.”
Translation: please, don’t make me suffer through another second of this.
“Impose away.” My lips barely moved as I spoke. “The stock market closes in fifty minutes, and I’ve already put in the hours today.”
She stared at me like I’d just announced I bathed in cat urine every evening to unwind. “You finish your work day at four?”
“I work all hours of the day,” I clarified. “And nights.” In case you ever plan to ask for any of my time as a wife.
“Are you always so lax?” She frowned before smoothing out her expression.
I was not worth the wrinkle.
“Only today.” I forced myself to smile, sourness exploding in my mouth. “So? Care to join me?”
Eileen stiffened ever-so-slightly, an exhale sailing past her lips, a touch too rushed.
Obviously, she’d hoped I wouldn’t ask.
“I’ll take a tour, thank you.”
She didn’t want to be here just as much as I didn’t want her to be here. The fact that I wouldn’t have to pry her off me was oddly comforting.
With a swift nod, I cocked my head sideways toward the east wing.
We strolled a good distance away from each other, with me spewing boring anecdotes and facts about each room and the art that decorated it.
Eileen nodded at all the right moments, pretending to care, but I’d caught her checking her thin leather Cartier often.
I could do worse than to marry someone who didn’t want to be in the same room as me. In fact, I preferred it to the alternative.
Fending off a needy wife seemed like a new circle of hell.
On our way to the dining room, I caught sight of Farrow. So much for giving her space on her first day.
She kneeled in the corridor, scrubbing away a persistent mud stain from the porcelain tiles.
I’d gotten used to witnessing her in this state—sweaty, sporting a bird’s nest on her scalp, her clothes peppered with bleached pigments.
She looked pitiful. The product of poverty and exhaustion. So opposite of me and my genteel guest.
And, I realized, for the very first time, so fucking beautiful I couldn’t breathe.
With her sharp features, golden hair, and sparkling blues. And those overgrown bangs—a little wavy and out of control—that made her look like a cool grunge girl on a double spread of Vogue.
The line of thought startled me.
I never admired humans.
I certainly never admired them for something as temporary as their beauty.
This is good. This is fine.
As long as you remember she’s a means to an end and not an actual three-dimensional person, you can admire her looks.
To prove my own point, I sidestepped her like she was a puddle of puke, sneering down at her as I guided Eileen along the hallway. “You missed a spot.”
Farrow glared up at me, no doubt stabbing me in her mind. “Sorry, Boss, but you’re a permanent feature.”