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)
“Fuck, what’s he doing here?” Brock snarls.
I glance over to see what he’s upset about.
This tall string bean-looking dude with coppery ginger hair—not quite red or blond—comes strolling forward at a steady clip.
“Mr. Winthrope himself! I thought I was dreaming.”
He slaps Brock on the arm with a high-pitched laugh.
Brock shirks away from the movement, but he also spins me in the process.
Now I have a shoulder to Mr. String Bean, and he’s standing between us like this weird scarecrow.
“Finch,” Brock spits the word like a curse.
“Bad time for chitchat, huh? That’s fine. I heard you were in town and stomping around my properties. I thought I’d catch you here. I couldn’t resist the urge to drop in and say, ‘hi.’”
Silence.
The look Brock gives this man isn’t his usual grumpybutt glare.
It’s downright hateful and disgusted.
“We should have drinks while you’re in town,” the man continues, unfazed by the stink eye. “We have a hell of a lot of catching up to do. Hell, the last time we talked, you were just back from the war and still all shaken up about that—”
“Finch,” he bites off. “You don’t have to bother.”
“Oh, right. Not in polite company, I suppose. I’m used to you sulking around all by your lonesome.” The stranger—Finch—slowly turns to me with a disarming smile.
Ick. Why does it feel like I’m being eyeballed by a snake?
Before I know what’s happening, he grabs my hand and kisses it, then looks back at Brock.
“Who is this beautiful creature, Winnie? You never told me you had a sister.”
Holy hell, what is happening?
My face heats.
I should probably never leave Seattle again and rethink this whole travel thing.
At least then I won’t fall into my hot billionaire boss sending me dresses or have this guy who rocks the Dahmer look getting all touchy-feely—and apparently trying to piss off Brock, too.
And I think it’s mission accomplished.
Brock’s vicious expression lasts for a nanosecond before he jabs his palm against Finch’s forehead and shoves him back.
The stranger staggers backward with a dirty look. “What the fuck? Jeez, man, territorial much? I didn’t know she was yours. You could have used your words instead of asking for assault charges.”
Brock reaches past me, yanks open the limo door, and shoves me inside.
“Touch her again and die,” I hear him snap, just before the door slams shut and his voice muffles. “I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
Welp, so much for tonight going well.
Brock steps closer to Finch.
His chest is bowed out and he’s already unbuttoned his jacket.
Holy crap. We might be here for a while.
I open the limo door.
Brock glares at me. “What are you doing?”
“It’s hot in here and you two look busy. I think I’ll just go back inside and wait.”
“Lovely idea,” Finch says. “Maybe we could all get a drink together and settle this like civilized people.”
“Stay,” Brock barks. He looks at Finch. “If she leaves that car, I’m blaming you.”
“Your threats are so very tedious. You really want more bad blood?” Finch scowls.
“You know what? You’re right.” He opens the door wider and slides in beside me before slamming it again. “At least I got to slam it in that asshole’s face twice that way.”
“What was that all about? Who is he?” I ask.
“Apollo Finch. A jackass not worth wasting breath on. He owns another hotel in town.”
“He walked up to you like an old friend—”
“Finch has no friends. He’s backstabbed damn near everyone. And he’s had some weird obsession with outgunning my family ever since Oasis Springs started losing bids to my grandfather in major cities and we swiped an award he was sure was his.” He pauses and turns furious blue eyes on me. “I think that cock is behind the review slaughter. I realized it after you pinpointed anomalies. He’s why you and Jennifer were working like hell, finding proof.”
“Him? What makes you think that?”
He shakes his head. “I went to his hotel yesterday. The same people leaving shitty low reviews for Winthrope give Oasis Springs five stars. But it’s a dusty, tired property with nothing new, and just now he came out of the private entrance. How did he even know it was there?”
Anger rolls off him in blistering waves.
I slide away to give him some space. “Are you going to be okay?”
He glares at me.
“You seem upset.”
“I’m fine. I just don’t like him probing me. It’s like he wanted me to know he was here snooping. Fucking maniac,” he grinds out.
Oof.
I have no clue what to say. This is so not how I ever wanted to go on an ill-advised date with my thunderhead of a boss.
“If you’re upset, we can always do this another time...”
“No. Who knows when we’ll both be free in Chicago again.” His gaze softens as he rakes a hand through his thick dark hair. “Why do you keep looking at me like I’m about to chomp your head off, Piper?”