No Romeo (My Kind of Hero #1) Read Online Donna Alam

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors: Series: My Kind of Hero Series by Donna Alam
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Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
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“Well, Oliver, it’s quite a place you’ve got here,” Todd says, awarding the evening his seal of approval in the understatement of the year.

I loved seeing this side of Oliver. He riffed with his staff, fitting in like he’s always popping into their fiery domain.

“Thank you, Todd, you’re very kind.”

Todd is certainly something. I’d thought, when Muffy first introduced us, that he’d be different. A self-made man who’d worked hard for what he had, but he was just as arrogant as the rest. Maybe even worse, because he seems to be under the impression that he’s better than everyone else—smarter because he got where he was by himself.

I despise the level of arrogance the rich have. I hate how power and wealth seem to make for a distinct lack of empathy. I see it at the clinic almost every day, and I’ve learned that it has nothing to do with where the money comes from. Inherited or earned, the more money you have, the bigger a dick you seem to become.

I know I’m guilty of a prejudice, and I’m conscious that not all wealthy people are terrible humans. There are good rich people out there, and maybe, underneath that starched, bossy surface, Oliver might just be one of them. It seems almost weird how I’d pigeonholed him when we first met, putting Oliver in the same category as the people I knew growing up. People who wanted for nothing, who grew up rich and spoiled, rarely hearing the word no in relation to their desires. Those who assumed they could do what they want, get what they want, because family (and money) would always bail them out.

“I’m so pleased you’ve looked after Evelyn,” Muffy says, nursing her brandy, “given her recent problems.”

“What problems are those? Almost marrying the wrong kind of man or almost marrying a man who was cheating on me?” Oops. The wine seems to have loosened my tongue.

“They’re the same, aren’t they?” Todd retorts.

“Sure.” And not at all. It wasn’t a sense of prescience that kept them in Connecticut.

“Some people are very good at hiding who they are,” Oliver begins. “Eve was unlucky, that’s all. But I think you’ll find she does a wonderful job of looking after herself.”

My mother titters, and Todd huffs a laugh.

“What’s funny?” I demand, with a tilt of my glass. “Guys, share with the class.”

“Eve.” My name is a caution as Oliver settles his warm hand over mine.

“No, I want to know what’s so amusing about my life.”

“You’re almost thirty years old,” Todd says. “You don’t own a house or a car. You bounce around from place to place. And have no responsibilities.”

“Not to make it a competition,” I say, “but don’t you pay the rent on Chelsea’s loft? And her Uber account.”

“Chelsea is twenty-five,” he says gruffly.

“A whole four years younger than me. Meanwhile, I’ve worked in Sri Lanka, Indonesia, Spain, and the UK. I support myself, and I do just fine.”

“Volunteering isn’t working,” Todd scoffs. “You spent all those years studying, and for what? So you can flit around the world with nothing but a backpack, volunteering and living in hovels, only to eventually settle for a job that pays less than fifty thousand a year.”

“Pounds, not dollars,” I snipe, hating that I’m justifying myself.

“That’s not a living, Evelyn.”

I pin my arms across my chest and let out a slow, calming breath. “Because I should’ve studied human medicine?”

“It would’ve paid better,” my mother adds carefully. “You’d be a doctor. It’s not just about money. Your standing would be better. You’d be treated better too.”

“By whom?”

My mother blinks back at me, wide eyed. It wouldn’t occur to her that the only people who disrespect my job are the people that are supposed to support me.

“I’m not interested in accolades,” I add wearily. “I’m doing what I was born to do. I love my job. I love animals, and I fell in love with treating them.”

“Yes, I know that, honey, but—”

“You can’t know. Not really. It’s tough some days. I see so much suffering, but there’s not a job on this earth that could surround me with such love. Animals devoted to their owners or loving on their rescuers. Owners who dedicate themselves to their pets. People can be hard to deal with because some people are just assholes.” I try not to look Todd’s way, just as I ignore my mother’s soft chastisement. “But in my little treatment room, even the assholes are redeemed in my eyes through their love and care for their pets.”

“Love doesn’t pay the rent.” Todd looks to Oliver, maybe expecting manly solidarity.

“You don’t pay my rent, so no worries there.” No love lost either.

“You never asked,” he grumbles.

“I prefer to control my own strings. Purse strings,” I tag on quickly.

“I don’t understand how you live the way you do,” he continues, needling me.



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