Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
When the officers leave, Dominic locks the doors, sets the security alarm, and meets Jolene in the living room.
“Who would want to break into our house?” she asks, then she retracts the question when he frowns at her, instead going with, “Well, why would they dare to?”
“I don’t know.” He runs a hand over his head and realizes they’re shaking. He drops them, sliding them into the pockets of his pajama pants. He can’t let Jo see how terrified he is. She’ll ask more questions, start prying. He has a gut feeling this relates to that note in the mail.
“You can sleep in the room with me if you want to,” she says, moving closer to him.
“Sure. I’ll be up in a bit. Just need to contact Frank and make another call.”
She looks into his eyes, as if searching for honesty, but it is true. Well, sort of. He is going to reach out to Frank, but he’s not going to call the other person. Jo rubs his arm empathetically, then she takes off, walking up the stairs.
When he hears her footfalls above, proving that she’s made it to the bedroom, he returns to his office, stealing glances at the locked French doors every so often, hoping the hooded person doesn’t return. They’d be stupid to.
He locks the office door then sits in his cushioned rolling chair, removing the keys taped beneath the desk and unlocking the bottom drawer. He takes out the Nokia and it still has a bit of battery.
He fires up a text to Boaz: Meet tomorrow, 10 a.m. at executive mansion.
He sends it off. Waits patiently while sipping his tea that’s now cold. A message appears, one little word: OK
He shuts the phone off, tucks it back into the drawer, then locks it again. After calling Frank and asking him to set up shifts around his private home, Dominic leaves the office. He takes his tea to the kitchen and dumps the remainder of it down the drain, but, when he looks up, he drops the mug, and it shatters in the sink.
Taped to the window from the outside is another note in permanent marker:
SHE WAS PLEASURE THEN SIN.
ONE YOU PUT TO AN END.
WHERE, OH WHERE, IS YOUR LOVE, BRYNN?
THIRTEEN
BRYNN
I’d never been inside the Ritz Carlton. Are you kidding me? The place was clearly for the rich and your girl was far from it. As I entered the lobby of the hotel, I realized how completely out of place I was in my tight red dress and strappy heels. What the hell was I thinking wearing this? Other women wore elegant gowns or vibrant work suits, while I came in dressed like a damn prostitute.
I felt the eyes on me, heavy and judgmental, but kept my gaze ahead and made my way toward the lounge. To my luck, the lounge was much darker. The lights were dim, and music flowed soothingly. Men on stage played saxophones, drums, and the piano while a woman stood in the center in front of a mic, singing delightful blues. Her makeup was dramatic and heavy with copious amounts of eyeliner, highlighter, and blush, and she wore a shimmery gold cocktail dress with pearls draped around her neck and wrists. In a way, she was like a sad masterpiece, and she sang straight from the soul.
I shifted my gaze to the people sitting on luxury, upholstered sliver sofas, drinks in hand as they mingled. It took me a minute to find the man I was looking for. But when I saw him, he was all I could see, standing exactly where he said he would be.
In a far corner at a two-top table was Dominic Baker. He wore a white button-down shirt tucked neatly into brown, creaseless trousers. His dark-brown shoes shined beneath the dim lighting, and a warm, inviting smile was on his lips. A drink was in his right hand, and he tipped the glass at me, which made me bite a smile. I walked in his direction and stopped short of the table as he stood.
“Wow,” he breathed. “Look at you, Brynn. All grown up.”
I grinned at that. “I can say the same to you. You look incredible, Dom. And clearly doing well for yourself if you can manage to afford this place.” I gestured around the lounge.
“Ah, well.” He smirked, still eyeing me. His eyes dipped to my cleavage, and I felt heat creep to my neck. “Let’s sit. Please,” he said quickly, gesturing to the chairs. It was as if he realized he was staring and had snapped out of it. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Sure.”
He slid the menu my way and a waitress materialized within a matter of seconds. I went with a watermelon cocktail, Dom ordered another bourbon, and when she took off, I focused on the band. The woman was singing a more upbeat song now and revealing a full set of white teeth. A nice transition.