Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
“Get her out of here.” Turning to the officer there, he continued, “Hold off on giving her the one call, let me get to my father before she can call him. I just need about an hour.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Rhodes. We’ll take the long way back to the precinct.”
He rode down in the elevator with the others and didn’t spare her a glance as he went to his waiting town car. It looked like his old man was going to get his wish sooner rather than never.
“Where to, sir?”
“The old man’s place, Finnegan.” His father had a certain place he stayed when he came to town.
“Very good, sir.” He was behind the wheel and they were on their way in seconds.
Chin resting on his hand, Livingston stared out the window at the darkness and rain that owned the night. It wasn’t even easy for the holiday lights people had put up to shine through.
He lost himself in his thoughts of how this day could have gone differently if he’d not been an asshole to Daisy at the Christmasfest. He’d had a great time with her earlier at the shop, making the gingerbread houses and watching her on the ice slide had kicked a joy through him he’d not expected to ever experience. Hell, he wanted the chance to ice skate with her, fast or slow, just to hold her hand as they moved over the ice.
“But I went and fucked it all up.”
“We’re here, sir.”
The door opened moments later and Finnegan stood there, holding an umbrella so Livingston wouldn’t get wet when he exited.
“I won’t be long, Finnegan. Wait in the car, keep it running, and don’t bother getting out when you see me coming back. I’ll be fine.”
“Very good, sir.” The man handed him the umbrella and closed the door while he headed for the front of his father’s mansion.
Not bothering with knocking, Livingston strode inside and barely looked at the butler, whom he’d surprised. He didn’t need to ask—his father had a dinner party every Thursday night to help keep the palms greased of those he wanted in his pocket. And to show off the woman at his side. So he headed to the formal dining room.
Stilted laughter and the clanking of silverware against china poured from the room. He closed the umbrella and stepped in the space. Great, one full of guests. He didn’t give a fuck.
His father stopped eating and lifted a dark eyebrow. At his side a small brunette who he figured was the newest in a long line of Mrs. Rhodeses. “Livingston. I didn’t think you were coming. You declined the invitation.”
“Right,” he said. “To meet my new stepmother.” He walked into the room. “And here I thought she worked for me. Monica, you know, the woman you were paying with actual money and sex to spy on me? Not that one there. Then again, you also encouraged the embezzlement of my money to try to drive a wedge between me and Bradford.” He made his way around the table toward his father. Not another sound in the room. “I’m coming after you, old man. Your whore is in jail right now and has already spilled her guts about what happened. How did you think that was going to work, marry her off to Bradford but keep her around to stick your dick into her when you were tired of”—a wave of his hand—“whoever this one is?”
Livingston placed the tip of the umbrella against his father’s chest and pushed. “I warned you years ago to stay out of my life. You neglected to listen and you will pay.” His father shifted but he dug the tip in deeper. “Stay,” he growled. “This is my city, so pack up and get your ass back to Tennessee. I’ll see you in court.”
“Don’t be foolish, boy. This isn’t your city. I’ve been in this game longer than you.”
“You have, old man, and you should be careful who you piss off. Women don’t like being used, no matter how much money you have. Especially if they don’t have a guarantee they’ll get what you promised.” He stepped back, visually skimming those gathered, making note of the attendees of the party who served in office and in the police. “Monica better not get any preferential treatment and her paperwork better not get lost, or I’ll come for each of you as well.” He reached around someone for a tumbler of amber liquid, lifted it and drained it.
Whiskey. And a nice blend.
“Enjoy your evening.” He walked out, climbed in the back of his car and directed Finnegan to take him back to the hotel. Right now, all he wanted to do was see Daisy.
His mood got shot to shit even more when the front desk said, “She’s checked out, Mr. Rhodes. Left a few hours ago.”