Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
“One point, Riley.” He draws a tally mark in the air, and then we both turn our attention back to Grace. “Looking good. Take it up to a trot, but drop your shoulders a little, keep ’em steady.”
I watch Grace adjust her posture and guide Pegasus into a faster gait.
“Seriously, though? The Harringtons?” Miller asks, obviously not letting this go, so I decide to reveal a bit more.
“Grace is a riot. Her energy is infectious, and she’s so animated about everything.” I can feel the smile stretching my face as I watch her. It’s like she’s becoming one with Pegasus, and when they pass us by, I wave and give her two thumbs up. “Get it, girl!”
“And Mr. Harrington?”
“Cameron’s great too,” I reply, cutting my eyes his way because it feels like he’s looking for a specific answer, but I’m not quite sure what it is.
Miller’s lips turn down the slightest bit. “Ah, got it. You’re one of those.” He sounds… disappointed? But I don’t know why.
“One of what?” I ask carefully.
“The nannies talk, you know?” He smiles, but it feels forced and empty, not like the friendly one he gave before, and as he speaks, he keeps his eyes on Grace, not sparing me a glance. “They start like Pollyannas, with high hopes and naïve stars in their eyes, but they soon learn that Harrington’s a cold, demanding, asshole of a boss who’ll expect you to be at his beck and call twenty-four, seven, three sixty-five, and will never give you a single compliment, praise, or raise. As wild as Grace is, he’s the main reason the nannies keep leaving.”
Miller doesn’t sound angry about that, more like he’s giving me a sneak peek behind the curtains of my new job, lest I be under any illusions of it being a cushy deal. And though it's not my place, I feel the need to defend Cameron despite having had a similar thought when I first met him and Grace. “Thanks for the warning, but I assure you, I’m as far from a Pollyanna as one can be. And while Cameron’s not effusively gushing about how awesome I am… yet,” I say, emphasizing that, “it’s only been a couple of days, so he’s got time to truly appreciate my amazingness.”
Miller nods his head slowly, then leans my way to oh-so-casually add, “He also doesn’t fuck around with the help.”
I make a sound of indignation and clip out, “Well then, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not looking for that.” Any guise of friendliness in my tone has evaporated because how dare he presume I’m the type who’d screw my boss.
He smirks disbelievingly. “That’s what they all say, right before they throw themselves at Daddy Warbucks. Fuck knows, I’ve listened to a few of them go on and on about his icy blue eyes and intimidating assholery, which is apparently sexy to some women.” He twirls a finger by his head, like that’s some crazy shit. “Then they’re gone—poof—like all the ones before them. Harrington doesn’t fuck around, literally or figuratively.”
“Well, that’s not what I’m here for.”
He pushes off the bleachers, smart enough to sense he’s stepped over the line. “Nice to meet you, Riley. Hope you stick around… at least for a little bit.” Effectively dismissing me, he strides away, calling out to Grace, “Alright, show me this new and improved canter.”
“And Riley watched my whole lesson. Well, most of it, anyway,” Grace rambles on, telling Cameron about our afternoon at the barn after dinner.
I can’t help but grin at the picture she’s been painting of today. She’s relayed her entire lesson in near real-time, minute by minute, with in-depth analysis of her riding, Pegasus’s response to her lead, and her plans for the upcoming end-of-year showcase. All of which Cameron has listened to intently, asking questions and hyping her up at all the correct points.
It’s honestly adorable.
With Cameron’s jacket long gone, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his eyes sparkling as he gives his complete attention to Grace, I don’t think he’s ever been cuter. Not that I’d tell him that. Or that for some weird reason, cute is suddenly feeling confusingly close to sexy in my brain.
Damn Miller for even suggesting that. He must’ve gotten my wires crossed because that’s definitely not why I’m here, working for the Harringtons. I’m a professional and there are lines that shouldn’t be crossed. Sleeping with the boss is definitely one of them and a one-way ticket to getting fired.
But while one particular part of my body is arguing that, thankfully, my brain is keeping up with Grace’s monologue, so wrist deep in soap suds at the sink, I pause my pan-scrubbing to argue, “Hey! I watched the whole thing.”
“Yeah, when you weren’t talking to Miller,” she teases, ducking her chin and batting her lashes at me. To Cameron, she clarifies, “And by talking, I mean flirting.”