Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Luckily, one of my two partners had the ability to focus. Franklin Marks had been a lifelong associate of my father’s and was in his mid-sixties. Joining with me to start this venture capitalist firm was a hobby for him. He already had more money than the next two generations of Marks’ kids could burn through. Franklin brought years of experience in finance to the table—the kind that didn’t get taught in Ivy League MBA programs. He was on the conservative side, but that was okay because he’d help balance out Jason, my other partner.
Jason and I had been friends since we were kids. I trusted him with my life. Over the years, we’d invested together in some small projects for fun. But he had a tendency to take risks, in business and his personal life. He worked hard and played even harder. Which was why I pulled him aside after our meeting to tell him the attorney he’d been salivating over all day was off limits.
I’d mostly planned the meeting today as an excuse to travel with Layla—get her alone for a while. I’d even blown off dinner with my partners tonight, just to have a few more hours on a flight home together. But the trip had turned out to be productive. Layla now had everything she needed to finalize the agreements we needed drawn up, and Franklin was so impressed with how she managed the three of us all day, he told her he’d be giving her a call for some other work.
In the car on the way back to the airport, my phone buzzed. I lifted it to find the best fucking text I’d ever received. Unable to contain my smile, I showed Layla the message from American Airlines.
“Flight got canceled.”
“What? No!” She grabbed the phone from my hand to verify the authenticity of my news. “They rebooked us on a flight tomorrow? We need to call. There must be a flight tonight we can catch.”
I shook my head. “When I pushed back our plans because of the accident this morning, my assistant said it was the last flight of the day.”
“That’s impossible.”
“We’re flying from Greensboro, not Atlanta. There aren’t flights in and out every three minutes all day and night.”
She got out her own cell and went online to double check. While she made her futile attempt to escape my company, I took the opportunity to look for a nearby hotel with a good restaurant—preferably something romantic.
I’d stayed at the O. Henry Hotel before. It was pretty nice, and I remembered passing an adjoining restaurant. Calling it up on my phone, I checked out the photos. The hotel looked as nice as I remembered, and better yet, the restaurant looked quiet, with a nice ambiance. Layla was still searching when I booked us two suites.
She huffed. “I can’t believe there really isn’t another flight out tonight.”
“I booked us rooms at a hotel I’ve stayed at before.” I left off that I’d requested they be next to each other.
“I don’t even have a change of clothes or a toothbrush.”
“There’s a shopping village across the street, an outdoor mall with chain stores, and a restaurant at the hotel.”
She scowled at me. “Can you at least pretend you’re not happy about this? Your smile is really pissing me off.”
“Promised myself if I got you to speak to me again, there’d never be another lie. So I’m not even hiding that I’m fucking thrilled we’re stuck here.”
I told the driver to take us to the O. Henry Hotel, and Layla called her office to let them know about the change of plans. When we pulled up out front, it was already pretty late, and the shops were going to be closing soon.
“We should run over to the stores before they close.”
“Okay.”
The first store we stumbled upon happened to be a Victoria’s Secret. It felt like I’d dated this woman for over a year, yet I had no idea what type of lingerie she favored. If I’d held out hope that I would get to find out soon, that thought was quickly squashed.
She stopped in front of the store. “Why don’t you go get whatever you need? I don’t need help in here.”
“Are you sure? You might need a second opinion when you’re in the fitting room.”
She pointed toward a Gap. “Go.”
I smiled. “I’ll check us in after I grab a few things and meet you over at the hotel.”
She opened the door to the store. “I can check myself in.”
I spoke to her back as she walked away. “My favorite color is red…”
At least she didn’t give me the finger. Progress.
***
I knew she was named Layla because her mother had been a huge Clapton fan. I knew that in the third grade she’d gotten into a fight with a boy, punched him, and broken his nose. Yet I’d never seen her in a pair of jeans or shared a decent meal with her. I sat at the restaurant bar, enjoying the view of her shapely hips gliding back and forth, clad in tight denim as she walked toward me.