Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
What the actual hell?
My face is flushed, and I ball my hands at my sides. The tips of my pale pink fingernails dig into my palms. The chill snaking down my spine starkly contrasts the heat of my blood.
“I’d say this is karma, but I think karma will come for you a little stronger than this,” I say.
He barks a laugh. “As if you know a damn thing about me.”
“I know all I need to know about you.”
“Great.” He shrugs. “If you know so much, then walk away.” He motions toward the door. “Trust me, if there were any possible way for me to do it, I would without hesitation. But I can’t.”
“I can’t either. I’m not going to leave Sutton hanging out to dry. She’s like a sister to me. If this show fails, it won’t be because I tanked it.”
Ripley moves through the room with purpose. “Then what do we do? We’re at an impasse.”
I groan loudly, letting my frustration get the best of me.
“One of us has to quit,” he says. “And it’s not going to be me.”
“One of us does have to quit, and it’s not going to be me.”
Ripley stops in front of me, his eyes drilling into mine. The intensity steals my breath, and my vulnerability to him makes me even madder.
We stare at each other, neither of us backing down. We’ve done this many times because we’re both too hardheaded to give in. There’s no way I’m breaking for this jerk. Not ever.
Finally, a slow, calculated grin slides over his lips and paints him like a villain. I shiver in response.
“Okay,” he says with a casual shrug. “I’m telling you right now that I’m not walking away. Are you going to change your mind?”
I shake my head.
“Then it looks like we’re doing it together,” he says.
“That’s impossible.”
“Well, apparently, it’s not. You are more than welcome to change your mind, but I’m certain where I stand. But let me tell you one more thing, Miss Hayes.” He leans closer, his minty breath filling the air between us. “I plan on fulfilling my end of the bargain for Jonah. I’m going to pretend to fall in love with whomever they put in front of me, whether that’s a random woman off the street … or you.”
It's a warning—a threat. An attempt to get his way like he always does.
Sorry, buddy. Not this time.
I want to poke him in the chest, but I know better. Instead, I narrow my eyes and appear as menacing as my five-foot-two-inch frame will allow.
“I’m certain where I stand, Mr. Brewer. And let me tell you one more thing. I’m going to do everything in my power to make Sutton look like a genius, whether that’s with a man off the street worthy of me … or you.”
He snorts. “Better be sure you can handle this, big girl.”
“Oh, little boy, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
Our gazes are electrified, the air crackling between us. In the distance, a door opens, and Sutton’s and Myla’s voices break the silence.
“I see you two have met,” Myla says. “Are we ready to move on to the contracts phase?”
Ripley grins. I smile, too.
I lift a brow, and so does he.
“You sure you’re up to this?” he whispers.
I wink at him, a sign of indifference, but meanwhile, my legs wobble beneath me. This is going to be an absolute disaster, but I’m not going to back down.
I’m not letting him win.
“Myla, where is the pen?” I ask.
His eyes sparkle back.
I’m so screwed.
Chapter Nine
Ripley
“Hey, Waffles, my man!” Tate crouches, catching my puppy mid-leap. “Did you get a new collar? You’re looking good. The red makes you look ferocious.”
The red makes you look ferocious? Whatever, Tate. I march past the love fest and head straight for my brother’s office.
“Bad day?” Tate asks.
“Oh, you could say that.”
I fling open his liquor cabinet and find his most expensive bottle of bourbon. Two fingers are poured into a glass before Tate and Waffles find me.
My body is hot, and I can’t decide if my blood is actually boiling, or if I was so distracted on the drive over that I forgot to turn on the air-conditioning. Pain emits from my jaw from clenching my teeth, and I struggle to keep my breathing under control. How did this happen?
Since leaving the Canoodle office this afternoon, I’ve replayed Saturday’s conversation with Jonah a hundred times. It was straightforward. He explained that a production he felt could be the next big thing for his company was in limbo. He suspected this could happen, and when he reached out to Tate initially, it was to gauge interest. Would any of us be interested should Jonah need a backup?
Jonah contacted our family because we owed him a favor and because he knew we could use the boost in public opinion. Word travels fast, and Jonah would definitely be saying lots of good things about us if we help him out.