The Love Plot Read Online Samantha Young

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
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Rafe continued to stare, his eyes washing over my face in a way that made my breath quicken.

“Well . . .” I let out shaky laughter, trying to defuse the sudden tension between us, “Wonders never cease. You admitted you were wrong.”

“I happen to do that on occasion, but don’t get used to it.”

I smiled, looking away. “I won’t.”

“I guess we’ve covered all we need to for now. You know my niece is eight years old.”

“It seems like you and Charmaine are close?”

Rafe’s expression warmed. “She’s a sweetheart. And, uh, my brother works a lot, so I try to be there for her when I can.”

Don’t make me like you, Whitman.

After another moment of tension-filled silence as we stared at each other, Rafe abruptly stood. “I’ll collect you tomorrow at three thirty. We do dinner a little early on a Sunday.”

We were done? Okay, then. “That’s fine.”

As I closed the door on him, I considered that he hadn’t bothered to ask me anything about myself beyond what his PI had already told him. His lack of interest in me stung. It was also kind of rude.

He lost some points for that.

Which was good.

Because I seriously did not want to feel anything remotely positive toward the brooding pain in the ass.

Chapter Seven

I swear I had plenty of time to get ready for Rafe picking me up for the dinner at his parents’ house. It was a rare Sunday off work, so I thought I’d do some grocery shopping in the morning, clean my apartment after that, and then read for a while before I had to get ready.

But it was almost time for Rafe to arrive and I was still half naked in front of my laptop. It was perched on my kitchen counter and Roger’s, Kendall’s, and Jude’s faces peered out from the screen.

“This has to be it. This is my lucky dress. I was wearing this when I scored free coffee at Blue Bean, when I met that guy at that art gallery thing and had the best sex of my life, and I got half off the dress in the first place.” I huffed out the last part, feeling sweaty and not at all ready to meet my fake boyfriend’s fancy parents.

“There was nothing wrong with the other six,” Jude retorted. “And why does it matter? I thought this guy wanted you to just be you during all this?”

“He does. But I’d put effort into dressing for a boyfriend’s parents.”

“You’ve never met a boyfriend’s parents in your life,” Roger teased.

“Uh, she hasn’t had a boyfriend since she was a kid,” Kendall corrected him. “Just a series of casual love affairs, like that guy from that art gallery thing.”

I just laughed at her teasing because it was true. I was the biggest commitment-phobe I knew. Why was I freaking out about what I was going to wear to meet Rafe’s parents? Like this was real. I was acting out of character.

I slumped with my dress half on. “You’re right. I should wear what I want.”

“And I just lost thirty minutes of my life for nothing,” Jude grumbled.

Kendall slapped him on the arm. “Shut up.”

“It’s true!” I yanked up the short sleeves of my blue dress. “I’ve wasted your time and mine. This is a job. I should wear whatever I would wear for any other job. Now I’m a sweaty mess for no good reason.”

“You are not,” Roger assured me. “You look beautiful, and this dress is perfect.”

It was a comfortable but inexpensive short-sleeved maxi dress, fitted at the waist, with a tiered skirt that wasn’t overly voluminous like some of my other dresses. It was blue and white polka dot and I could dress it up or down. I quickly slipped on my espadrilles that had an ankle strap, not ties (tie espadrilles were a pain in the butt).

“Jewelry?” I asked my friends.

“Ooh, what about those earrings—the white ones with all the dangling petals?” Kendall suggested.

“Yes!” I pulled my jewelry box out from under my sofa bed and found the earrings. Grabbing a mix of white, blue, and gold bangles, I shoved a bundle on my wrists so I jingled as I walked.

Fluffing my hair, I stood in front of the laptop. “Okay, I’m good?”

“Beautiful!”

“Gorgeous.”

“Yeah, I’d do you.”

I beamed at my friends. “You guys are the best. Thank you for putting up with me. As you were!”

“Text me when you get there and when you get home,” Roger ordered before I could end the video chat. His tone was stern. “I’m still not convinced this guy isn’t a serial killer.”

“Fair,” I agreed. “I’ll text you. I promise. Love you all!”

“Love you.”

“Love ya, babes.”

“Yeah, yeah, you too.”

I grinned and closed my laptop just as my door buzzed.

* * *

• • •

I’d told Rafe to wait for me, but he’d insisted on coming up to my door to collect me. It was kind of an old-fashioned gentlemanly gesture.



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