Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“I guess I have to pack.”
I walk away, leaving Dad standing in Maisy’s room.
Then I start picking out clothes for Insta worthy photo ops, wishing grump-zilla knew half of what I do for him just to keep getting paid.
“Pinch me, Pippa. Pinch me right freaking now.” Jenn downs her second cocktail in the lounge, grabbing my arm so fast I think she’ll tear it off. “A private jet! Are we dreaming?”
“Nope.”
Part of me wishes we were.
She takes a massive gulp of something pink that smells like grapefruit.
“Hol-y shit! That’s good.” She claps her hands together loudly.
I sip my Shirley Temple and stuff more toast into my mouth.
We’re not even on the plane yet and I’m already feeling queasy.
But I’ve learned the hard way that Brock Winthrope, travel, and alcohol are a recipe for misplaced kisses and fighting. No point in adding fuel to the fire.
“Why do you really think he’s so obsessed with these bad reviews? Is it deeper than money?” I ask.
“Who knows?” She hiccups loudly. “Who cares?”
“Okay, let’s slow down a little.” I grab her glass and pull it away from her. “But really, do you think he’s worried about his grandfather’s legacy? Is it just an ego thing?”
Who am I kidding?
We’re talking about Brock freaking Winthrope.
It’s always an ego thing.
“As far as I’m concerned, that’s his problem. We’re getting paid to sleuth our little hearts out and traveling like queens. Just smile and accept it.”
Sage drunken advice.
I nod.
“Oh, I do have a question,” she asks before raising a glass of water to her lips.
“Okay? And at least you’re staying hydrated.”
“What’s really going on when Lucifer invites you to his throne room for those late meetings with the people overseas? And why am I always exempt?”
She gives me a knowing look.
Ugh, if only she knew.
But telling her our psycho boss kisses me like I’m Aphrodite reincarnated wouldn’t be wise, especially when she’s inebriated and loud.
“Boring ad stuff. I sit there taking notes while he rakes people on other continents over the coals. Only, they seem a lot more capable than anyone here,” I say. That much is true.
“Ouch. Are you sure?”
“Unfortunately.”
“So he just has you playing secretary?” Jenn wrinkles her nose. “Why doesn’t he have me help? Surely, three heads are better, and I could take some pressure off you. You’d have an easier time at home...”
Because he doesn’t want to shove his tongue down your throat, Jenn, I think glumly. And you’re smarter than me because you’d never let him.
I shrug. “Well, I appreciate it, but maybe he doesn’t want both of us cramping his style. We both annoy him.”
“It’s just weird. We’re on the same little team he’s cobbled together and we’re salaried.”
I drain the rest of my glass, hating the bitter truth.
The man pays me in heart-thieving kisses.
He tortures me with the eternal temptation to let him do more.
Heat pulses under my cheeks, and I stifle a messy giggle.
Jenn looks at me. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Like hell. You’re all red. Now you have to tell me.”
I shake my head fiercely.
“Pippa—”
“There’s nothing to tell!”
“Clearly, it’s something. Let me guess—he hasn’t forgotten about your Hawaiian excursion?”
“Jenn, would you shut it? You’re so loud,” I hiss under my breath.
Her face drops like I’ve slapped her.
“Sorry. It’s just—the whole thing is awkward enough. I promise you it’s just business.”
I also promise I’m a terrible liar. Good thing she’s too buzzed to notice.
“It’s cool. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just teasing. But seriously, if Winthrope’s still making kissy faces—”
“Jenn, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me,” I cut in. “But I think we should go. It’s almost time to board the plane.”
We grab our carry-ons and follow the rest of the small Winthrope crew to the jet, waiting just outside the exit to the tarmac.
I’m surprised the plane is so lavish. Unlike most rich guys who probably use fancy jets to compensate for their micro-peens, he has nothing to worry about in that department.
This thing is a flying cabin of sleek ivory and gold. Every surface sparkles and it smells like ten new cars inside.
I’m about to pinch Jenn and myself just to make sure we’re not dreaming when we find our seats.
We’ve barely started rolling toward the runway when Brock appears in front of us.
My eyes almost pop out of my head.
Stupid man and his stupid sexy outfits.
Stupid black vest hugging his massive chest.
Stupid scowl that roils my blood.
Stupid glacial stare.
“Come sit with me, Miss Renee. There’s a lot we can review over three hours,” he says.
For a second, I glower, but then stand reluctantly.
“Bring your laptop,” he says over his shoulder, already plodding back to his seat.
I grab my messenger bag.
Jenn grins at me and waves.
“Have fun in detention!” She winks.
I don’t bother replying.
I just follow him to the plush chairs closest to the front and sit down beside him.