Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
It was easy enough to do because after five minutes of being in the room, women surrounded Rafe again. This time, he really did appear like a cornered animal, his eyes wide, nostrils flaring. I felt a little bad for him despite his shitty attitude earlier. But when I looked over a few minutes later, he was gone, having, I assumed, made his escape.
It was only after most of the guests had left and Philippa had paid me in cash and was walking me to the door that I saw Rafe had reappeared. I glanced casually toward the living room and was shocked to see him sitting on the floor with Charmaine, grinning as she showed him what presents she’d received. He said something that made her laugh so hard she fell into him. Her uncle wrapped his arm around her to pull her into his side as he, shocker of all shockers, laughed with her.
And he went from unfairly attractive to “I might pass out from his sexiness” attractive.
Seriously, there went all the air out of my lungs.
Holy hot damn.
He looked up at that moment and our gazes met.
Rafe’s smile died as his arm tightened around his niece, and I hurried out of the apartment before he could see my obvious reaction to him.
I’d learned long ago there was no point trying to make someone like you when they’d already decided that they didn’t. It was much better to focus that energy on the people who already cared about you. And while I might find Rafe Whitman several levels of hot, I was only physically attracted to him. Bad day or not, judgmental snobs didn’t really do it for me on an emotional level and, while I was anti-relationship, I still needed to like a guy before I’d let him into my bed.
As I took the elevator to the ground floor of that fancy Manhattan apartment, I shoved all thoughts of the man from my head and instead focused on the fact that I’d just added a character to my repertoire that had been a huge hit. Pulling my cell out of the pocket of my dress, I shot off a text to Dotty, my boss at We Bring Them to Life, the company that provided an actor to play almost any character you needed for your event.
Put Merida at the top of my specialty list. I rocked her.
And no pompous, grumpy Manhattanite would convince me otherwise.
Chapter Two
“How can you do that?”
I looked up from my e-reader to face three people in front of me. We were all waiting in line for the new iPhone. Even though I’d turned up pretty early, there were a lot of people already waiting. Considering my client was paying me to wait in line and every extra half hour was another ten dollars in my pocket, I didn’t care how long I stood there. “Do what?” I smiled at the threesome.
The dark-haired girl who’d asked replied, “Read in the middle of a crowded street. You’ve been totally zoned out for the last hour.”
Glancing around the busy street where the Apple store on Fifth Avenue was located, I realized it was now midday. Just as I realized that, my belly grumbled. Thankfully, I had packed a lot of snacks in my purse because the last time I waited on a new Apple product, the wait was six hours.
I had been here for four hours so far and was growing ever closer to the enormous glass-cubed entrance to the store.
Shrugging at the group, I switched off my e-reader and popped it into my purse. “I’m just good at drowning out noise, I guess. Are you waiting for the phone for yourselves or someone else?”
It turned out two of them were waiting for themselves, but the dark-haired girl, Yvonne, was, like me, being paid to wait for someone else. As we chatted about everything and nothing to kill time, I checked my phone and noticed I had a few texts from my client asking about my progress. Though I would never understand the urgency of owning certain material goods, I definitely appreciated it because it allowed me to do a job that didn’t stress me out.
Yvonne was new to line sitting, and I was in the middle of recommending the best solo tent to buy for long waits during the winter when my attention moved over her shoulder and I spotted a familiar man.
He was so tall and broad-shouldered he was hard to miss.
And still spectacularly hot.
Rafferty “Rafe” Whitman.
Okay, so I might have googled him out of curiosity.
Rafe was the younger son of Greg Whitman, a shipping magnate. The Whitman kids could live off their trust funds and never work a day in their lives. But all of them did. The eldest, Hugo, Charmaine’s father, was the new CEO of the family company. The youngest, Georgina, was some kind of computer genius. And Rafe . . . well, guess what?