Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Her voice holds a hint of amusement when she speaks, though. And I think there’s a hint of more than just artificial blush there.
I sit on the small ledge that frames the window. My view of the city is second to none. I have the best office in the building—but then again, we’ve all claimed that at one time or another.
The view of Central Park reminds me of home, at least.
“Spencer, we have a lady here for business, not pleasure. That’s a first, isn’t it?”
The longer she looks at me, the more I lay on the English charm. American women can’t refuse an accent.
Julia arches a brow. Her hands are tightening around the handbag in her lap, and between the two of us she’s met so far, I wonder how much longer she can last without a visit to the ladies’ room for more than just a quick powdering of her nose.
“I’ve visited with Spencer, Xane, and now you. Can you give me some insight as to your resort in Colorado? Tell me something I won’t read online.”
I’m paying attention to what she says, but who has time for all this business talk when I have a stiff one?
“Is that what really brings you here, love?” I ask.
“I’m sorry?” she says.
“How about I take you out for a bite this evening? Or if it’s your fancy, Spencer could tag along, and we could make it a very interesting evening?”
She blinks a few times to process my question before shaking her head. “I—”
“Oops, see what I did there, Spence? Pleasure before work again. My mistake. Do go on, love.”
Julia sighs, shaking her head.
“I would like to discuss the baseline age of your clientele.”
Her voice more assertive. Julia is getting the runaround, and she knows it.
“Worry lines, they call those,” I say with a smirk. Seeing her face filled with confusion is rather amusing. I’ve always been a bit cheeky.
I laugh as Julia furrows her brows together, creating a path of worry—and maybe even a little anger.
“I’m not worried, but it would be nice if you could focus on what I’m here to discuss instead of trying to be Austin Powers!”
Her voice cracks at the end.
“Oh, this lass has jokes, does she? Watch out, Derek. She might take your lines,” I say to myself, but I make sure they both hear me. It’s part of the fun.
I glance over at Spencer to find him clicking away at a game on his phone. Or that’s the image he wants to give off. I know all too well there’s more to him than meets the eye; he’s quite intently sizing this Julia girl up to see what the best course of action is to get her in his bed, screaming and grabbing the sheets like no tomorr—
“Hahaha!”
Spencer’s laughter rips through the room, giving both Julia and I a jolt.
“You guys gotta see this dog!”
Well, I’ve been wrong before, too.
“According to my demographics, the average age of the consumer is thirty-two, married, and with children. We have many activities for the younger, as well as the advanced ages. Plus, there is childcare exclusive to our hotel. All bonded, of course.”
I finally throw her a bone before I take my glass back to the bar and give it the old top off.
“Good job, Derek ole boy,” I say, clinking my glass with the air in front of me.
I don’t need to turn to know that both Julia and Spencer are wondering who I’m speaking to. Of course, it’s a habit of mine to praise myself for a job well done.
Julie takes a sip of the scotch, then stops with a harsh, sputtering cough.
“Sorry, t-that’s strong. I’m not one to drink, much less in the middle of the afternoon. Er, how often do you visit your own resort again?”
I bring the bottle over, topping off her glass as well.
Julia tries to put her hand over the crystal snifter, but she isn’t quick enough. I fill it to the brim with a two-thousand-dollar bottle of aged liquor.
“What kind of host would I be if I let my guest get parched?” I grin.
I don’t offer a drink to Spencer. It’s not because I’m rude, but he’s more of a beer drinker, and I wouldn’t want the spirit to go unappreciated. We’ve had this talk more than a few times.
Julie widens her eyes, looking at the teetering glass at the edge of the desk. I know there’s no way she can drink it all and still carry on a level-headed conversation.
“So, about that question. How often do you travel to Colorado?”
Tsk, tsk, much too high-strung. Too many questions leave one much too uptight. A good thrashing in the sheets would surely leave her sitting right.
At least mentally.
“Hmm, I bet you could use a trip to Colorado. How about we take my private jet and leave right now? I can only imagine how a ski suit would grip that bum of yours.”