Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
By the size of Lisa’s eyes—two fat moons glowing back at me—I knew I looked like I needed to calm the fuck down. And if that wasn’t a telltale sign, then the fact that Tom appeared in my periphery, his stance inviting trouble, was.
“Immensely!” Lisa flung her arms over my shoulders in a hug. I froze, still holding the knife and carving fork. What the fuck was happening? I wanted it to un-happen. I didn’t want to be touched by anyone. Well, not anyone. But not her. “Finally, you feel something, Ransom. This is huge.”
“This is stupid.” I pulled back, face thundering. “Nothing about this is okay. I have a weird obsession with a woman I used to work for. A woman who is eight years my junior.”
“You’re in love.”
“This isn’t what love looks like,” I spat out.
“It’s exactly what love looks like,” Tom interjected from his spot by the table. “Go to Los Angeles, you prick.”
“She doesn’t want to see me.”
“She said that seven months ago,” Tom pointed out.
“She also doesn’t have the memory of a goldfish,” I countered. “She meant it then. She means it now.”
“Ransom—go!” Now it was Lisa’s turn.
“I don’t want to bother her.”
“You won’t be,” Tom assured me.
“How do you—”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Lisa threw her hands in the air. “Because I talk to her, okay? I talk to her on the phone about twice a month, and she is still crazy about you. She hates you for what you did, for how you treated her, for a lot of things, but she is still very much into you. So, for the love of God, please, please, Ransom, just go to Los Angeles and man-up. The ship’s sailed. You’re never going to be able to un-feel again. Not once you’ve gained feelings. They won’t go away. Now that you know what it’s like to feel—make sure you both feel good.”
She was going to strangle me.
First and foremost, for grabbing a private plane from Chicago to Los Angeles.
A billionaire client had owed me a favor and he agreed to lend me the plane if I paid for the pilot and fuel.
Second, because I was showing up at her doorstep.
While it was entirely possible that Hallie still thought about me occasionally like Lisa said—she was a sentimental creature—she also nearly pushed me off a fucking cliff the last time we saw each other.
But at the end of the day, Lisa was right. I had to at least try to plead my case.
There was only one tiny problem—I had no goddamn idea where she lived these days, and very little time to conduct my research. I boarded the plane just two hours after my conversation with Lisa and Tom.
My first call was to Keller. He seemed to be her good friend, and I still had his contact from when I worked for her.
“Hola?” he chirped into the phone.
I sat back on the plush white recliner on the plane. “Keller, it’s Ransom.”
There was a pause before he said, “The fuck?”
“Hallie’s former bodyguard.”
“I know who you are. My memory is impeccable. Do you know how much gingko I consume? The levels of flavonoids and terpendois in my body are insane.”
Was he even speaking in English?
“What do you want?” Keller asked.
Obviously, Hallie had not sung my praises to her best friend after our showdown.
“I’ll be in the area in a couple of hours and I’d like to meet Miss Thorne. Can you tell me her new address?”
“No, I cannot,” he said resolutely. “You can call her and ask for yourself.”
“We both know the answer will be no.” I wondered what inspired me to have this conversation on the phone and not face-to-face. Keller had a weakness for aesthetically pleasing people. “And I want to talk to her.”
“And I want to romance Neil Patrick Harris. But guess what? He’s already taken. And I’m not a homewrecker. Oh, and I’m pretty sure he lives in Sherman Oaks, where the traffic is insane.”
This man was entirely too much. How Hallie suffered through a conversation with him was a mystery.
“Keller.” I used my most menacing tone. “She’d want to hear what I have to say.”
“Sure about that, honey?” he asked sweetly. “Great. Then call her and ask for her address. Buh-bye!”
He hung up the phone. I looked at the device with a scowl, then dialed Max. He answered immediately. I didn’t even care that he was filling a post in Russia and was in a different time zone.
“Max.”
“What’s up, boss?”
“I need Hallie Thorne’s new address.” This was also going to give me a good indication as to whether the two kept in touch or not.
There was a beat of silence before he said, “Boss…I have no idea. I tried to call her a few times after what happened. She never picked up and I didn’t want to get in trouble.”