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)
That gave me hope that we could be … more. Maybe everything.
“Do you remember Bobby Downing?” Gannon asks.
“Fuck him,” Tate says immediately.
Just hearing the name makes my stomach curl. “How could we forget?”
Bobby Downing, an acquaintance of our father, tried to make life hell for us after Dad’s arrest. He claimed he was promised a portion of the Arrows franchise for helping Dad secure the purchase. It was bullshit, unethical, and it cost us a few million dollars in attorneys’ fees to fight him in court. But we did, and we won. There is no love lost between us now.
“I got a tip today that he has been contacting our investors—the ones he helped secure for the Arrows purchase,” Gannon says. “I’m not certain what’s being said, but he’s up to something. I notified our attorneys today, and I also called Nick to see if he can dig anything up.”
“Good ol’ Nick,” Tate says. “The best private investigator in all the land.”
Gannon folds his hands on the table. “The second thing that I wanted to talk to you about is that Jason apparently thinks it’s hilarious to have Callum assigned to my security team.”
Tate and I can’t help it. We laugh. Hard.
Gannon isn’t entertained, which makes it that much funnier.
Landry Security is in charge of our family’s security operations. Jason is the liaison and coordinates it all since he has a background in all things espionage. We all have guards at the entrance of our homes, as well as security systems. Renn has an extra guard at his house thanks to being a public figure and having a baby at home, and Mom has a detail with her at all times. She hates it, but we insist. The only exception to the rule is Bianca and that’s because she’s married to Foxx Carmichael. He’s a walking army on his own. If he can’t protect her, no one can.
Out of all the security guards that rotate in and out of our lives, Callum is the one we dislike the most. We’ve all taken our turn with him and couldn’t wait for his round to be done. He’s cocky, abrasive, and so full of himself that he might just pop.
If he’s oil, then Gannon’s water, and we’ve all waited with bated breath for Gannon to have to deal with him. It looks like now’s the time.
“I need to grab the popcorn,” Tate says, snickering.
“It’s not funny,” Gannon says, glaring at us. “I hate that motherfucker.”
“Join the club,” I say.
“I told Jason to get him off my detail and he did that thing he does where he acknowledges what you say and acts like he’s on your side, but you know he’s not going to do shit.”
“Ah, I know that look well,” Tate says. “I get it for just about everything I say.”
“I’m not sure what I can do to help you with this one, Gan,” I say. “I don’t want Callum here.”
“He’s not working with me again,” Tate says. “I just got rid of him.”
Gannon groans. “Fine. I’ll just call Ford Landry myself. Fuck Jason.”
Tate and I exchange a grin. Fuck Jason? This should be fun.
I glance around the yard for my puppy, only to find him in the pool and chasing a floating tennis ball.
“Get out of there,” I say, giving him a look that tells him he’s disobeyed me, and I’m not pleased.
He looks at me and then charges toward the ball like he either doesn’t understand or doesn’t care.
“Come on, Waffles,” I say, sterner this time. “Don’t make me get in there to get you.”
He paddles twice in a circle and heads back for the steps.
“Hey, Ripley,” Tate says. “Carys wants to go to a concert this weekend and she has four tickets. Her new boyfriend won’t go with her—surprise fucking surprise—so she wondered if you and I wanted to go with her and one of her friends. Could be fun.”
“Are you fucking her yet?” Gannon asks.
“Who?” Tate asks him.
“Carys.”
“Hell no,” Tate says. “Not happening.”
“She’s a hot little thing,” Gannon says. “What’s wrong with her?”
Tate wrinkles his nose. “I know too much about her. I’ve heard too many stories that I can’t unhear. Besides, she’s into the kind of guy who will stomp all over her heart. I’m too nice for her.”
“Maybe she should give Gannon a shot,” I joke. “He’ll break her heart. She’ll love it.”
Gannon smirks.
“I couldn’t handle that drama,” Tate says. “And you couldn’t either—either one of you.”
“While that sounds like an absolute barrel of fun, I can’t go with you,” I say. “Sorry.”
I don’t know if it’s the way I say it, or the tone I use, or just that Tate can read me better than almost anyone in the world. But he looks at me with a curious, skeptical look that makes it clear he knows something is going on. That it’s not just me not wanting to deal with Carys’s friends.