Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 93699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“I don’t need to do anything that’s—Now that you’ve spoken—” I struggled to finish a single thought. Tonight’s alcohol had seeped too deeply into my veins, clouding what was left of my coherency.
As if he could tell, Travis pulled me against his side and walked me through the kitchen until we approached an exit door.
We entered an empty alley where a black and silver McLaren stood waiting for us.
Too drunk to even sit up straight, I tried to lean back against the seat, but I fell over in his lap.
He ran his fingers through my hair as he drove.
“Travis?” I asked, struggling to keep my mouth shut, wanting to gain the upper hand just once.
“Yes?”
“I’ve dated other people since we ended things.”
“Everyone has to experience disappointment at some point in life.”
“You’re not the best I’ve ever had.”
“Tell me that when you’re sober.”
“I just want you to know that I didn’t wallow when we were over.” I lied. “Plenty of other guys were interested in dating me.”
He let out a low laugh. “I’m sure they were.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Not really,” he said, “I don’t care how many guys you saw after me.”
“Why not?”
“Because as far as I’m concerned, your pussy has my signature on it and no other man will ever fuck you good enough to erase it.”
I shut my eyes and gave in to the drunken lure of sleep.
He’d won this round, hands down.
TWENTY-ONE
TRAVIS
Las Vegas, Nevada
Operation: Fake Fiancee
Week 2
Day 8:
Miss Brave makes an appearance at Humble City Fitness for photogs. Mr. Carter begins intense training for the rematch.
Day 9:
Joint body language sessions.
Day 10:
Mock interviews with Mr. Carter’s top ten super fans.
A joint brunch at Top of the World restaurant with the city’s mayor.
Day 11-14:
Miss Brave & Mr. Carter will attend interviews with multiple news outlets. One will be live. Three will be taped and aired at a later date.
TWENTY-TWO
ELEVEN DAYS AFTER SAYING “I DO”
TRAVIS
One Week Later
Dolby Theatre
Los Angeles, California
Madeline tapped her foot in the greenroom backstage, looking back and forth between me and Tatiana.
“Is there any reason why you two arrived on separate planes for today’s interview?” she asked. “Was that really necessary?”
Neither of us said a word.
With the exception of our scheduled events, we’d barely spoken to each other since the night we damn near fucked in the casino kitchen. The tension between us was far too high, the level of lust too damn palpable, and it seemed like she was attempting to avoid me as much as I avoided her.
“Um, hello?” Madeline asked. “Is there a problem I should know about?”
“I believe Mrs. Carter is upset with me about something,” I said.
“Something?” Tatiana narrowed her eyes at me. “Is that what you said?”
“I don’t believe I stuttered.” I focused my attention on Madeline instead of her; her lips were curving into that sexy, angry line that aroused me beyond words.
“It’s a good thing I have more than one private jet at my disposal,” I said. “It ensures that we’ll always be able to attend these events together.”
“He left me.” She seethed. “I told him I was running ten minutes late this morning, and he left me.”
“First of all, you were an hour late.”
“Forty-five minutes to be exact.”
“It damn sure wasn’t ten.” I rolled my eyes. “So, perhaps I was trying to teach you a much-needed lesson about time, Mrs. Carter. It waits for no one.”
“Okay, look.” Madeline stepped between us, her voice firm. “I need you two to focus. This interview will be watched live by at least seven million people, and then it’ll be broadcast as a rerun to millions more, and available for everyone via streaming after that. So, drop this petty shit and please, pretty please just pretend like we’re in rehearsal for the next half hour. Then you pick up the pettiness right after. Deal?”
“Deal,” we spoke in unison.
“Perfect!” She opened the door, and we clasped hands before heading to the white sofa on the soundstage.
The studio audience clapped and cheered when they saw us, and I spotted several “I love you, Travis!” “Congratulations!” and “You’re Still Undefeated to Me” signs.
“Hello Carters!” The interviewer, Catherine Bailey, gushed as we took our seats. “It’s such a pleasure to have you here in California with us today.”
“The pleasure is ours, Miss Bailey,” Tatiana said. “My husband has been looking forward to this interview ever since you invited us.”
I nodded and forced a smile. This woman was supposedly the “queen of talk shows,” but I’d always felt like something was off, and I’d rejected every single interview request for years.
“Good to hear,” Miss Bailey said. “Quick thing, though. I know we agreed on some pre-approved questions, but I hope you won’t mind me throwing in a few personal and juicy ones of my own.”
“We will mind.” I was still smiling, despite my tone. “That was the number one condition of you getting our first newlywed couple interview.”