Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
It was like I’d thrown a bucket of cold water on him—that was how hard he recoiled.
“Date?” The word came out with horror and was followed by a humorless laugh. “I don’t date, Sydney. And even if I did,” his face contorted, “I wouldn’t do it with you.”
Maybe he hadn’t meant for his statement to be cruel, but it slammed into me. His rejection, immediately on the heels of the greatest kiss of my life, was a fist to my heart.
I slumped back against the car, almost too wounded to speak, but I eked it out. “Because I’m his sister?”
His gaze drifted down my body, heavy with reluctance, and he let out a sigh before finally refocusing on my face. “No,” he said. “Because you wouldn’t be able to handle me. You’re too much of a good girl.”
My mouth dropped open.
I was competitive, and this rang as a challenge in my ears. But it also lit a fire in my belly, one that burned so hotly, smoke clogged my throat and choked down my words.
It meant that when he turned away and began his short trek back to the house, I simply watched him go, saying nothing at all.
FOUR
- One Year Later -
Preston
It didn’t take me long to figure out I’d made a mistake.
I’d met Charlotte earlier this week and asked her out almost immediately, but it was rapidly becoming clear we had nothing in common. When the hostess told us our table wasn’t yet ready for dinner, we shuffled onto the side patio of the restaurant, and then struggled through awkward conversation for the next few minutes.
It was painful.
Her tone did nothing to hide her distaste. “So, you still live at home?”
“Yeah, but it’s not like it sounds. My dad and his girlfriend are never there. He works all the time and she’s in school to become a vet, so I have the place to myself most days.” She looked like she needed more convincing I wasn’t some gross guy who lived in his dad’s basement. “I’ll move out soon, but right now I’m saving money because I’m building up my business.”
“Oh.”
She said it like she didn’t believe me. I swung my gaze away from her and tried to find something else to focus on.
The outdoor space and the restaurant beside it seemed nice. It was new and busy, a trendy grill and pub. I’d picked it because there was a banquet room attached that might be perfect for hosting cocktail events if the drinks here were good. And if this date was a bust, at least the evening wouldn’t be a total loss.
Above, string lights stretched across the patio, hanging over two sets of cornhole games, which were in use by guests also waiting for tables. Charlotte and I watched as a bean bag sailed through the air and landed on the angled board, its momentum making it slide and drop down through the hole.
Three points for that guy.
He grinned proudly. “And . . . that’s game.”
The other man standing to the side of the board nodded, dropped the bean bags he was holding, and motioned toward the side door that I assumed led to the bar. “All right,” he conceded. “Guess I’m buying. What do you want to drink?”
As they moved off, I glanced around. No one else in the small crowd seemed interested, and at least it’d give us something to do. I gestured to the available game. “You want to play?”
Charlotte made a face and waved the idea off. “No thanks. I’m terrible at it.”
Great.
I’d asked her out before I’d known she was Ardy’s daughter, and now I felt trapped. He was the owner of Warbler Entertainment, which was Troy’s talent agency, and Colin and I needed them as a client.
The first official year of our company, Distinguished Events, had gone okay, but not spectacular. Colin and I had coordinated bachelor and bachelorette parties, anniversaries, and even a few weddings, but we were barely turning a profit. Nearly everything we made was invested back in the business.
Nashville was a big town with a huge entertainment scene, and I was eager to tap into that. Bar mitzvahs and retirement parties kept us afloat and helped us build our network, but we needed a bigger event in our portfolio. Something too big to ignore, to really establish our name.
Troy’s release party would be that event.
His newest album was dropping in two months, and Colin and I had pitched the event to Warbler. I liked to think we’d landed the job based on the strength of our proposal, and not our personal connection to Troy, but it didn’t bother me if it’d given us an advantage.
I didn’t care how Distinguished Events got its foot in the door—only that it happened.
And once Ardy had signed the contract, I’d walked out of the meeting riding a high, and asked the receptionist out without thinking it through. She was hot, my age, and seemed interested in me, and I’d been too excited to recognize she shared the same last name as Warbler’s owner.