Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“I know you are,” Jordan said with a laugh. “If you’re half as hard on him as you are on yourself, then it’ll be fine.”
“Dare I ask what the kid did?”
“Breaking and entering and vandalism,” Jordan said. He scrolled his phone and passed it to me. I looked down at a black-and-white photo of Colton Wright. I’d seen him once before. He looked just like a teenage version of his father. “He and a few of his friends broke into the rival prep school and spray-painted dicks all over the gym.”
I snorted. “Sounds right.”
“Yeah. It was stupid, and they might have gotten away with it, but they’d bragged about it before it happened. So, some of the kids from the other school showed, and there was a fight. Administration found out and refused to let them all go.”
“Both sides were arrested?”
“Yes. Jensen got them to back down by saying he was taking Colton back to Texas.”
“And money, I’m sure.”
“I’m sure.” Jordan stood and took his phone back. “So, are you up for it?”
“It doesn’t sound like I have a choice.”
“That’s the spirit,” Jordan said. “He’ll start Monday.”
I couldn’t hold back my laugh. It was a ridiculous notion. What was I going to do with a fifteen-year-old New York City brat? I already had an assistant, but from what it sounded like, I couldn’t foist Colton off to him. Jensen Wright’s son would steamroll my assistant. I’d need to come up with a game plan to try to deprogram the little shit.
“Fine. Monday it is.”
“Knew I could count on you.” Jordan leaned against the doorframe. “Everything set for Midland?”
“Yeah. Eve should be here any minute.”
“She’s late, isn’t she?” Jordan asked with a smirk.
“Fifteen minutes and counting.”
Jordan grinned. “It’s good to see you flustered. Wasn’t sure anything did that.”
“My brother would say everything does.”
“He’d be wrong.” He tapped the door twice. “Good luck this weekend. Text if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
Jordan was leaving just as my phone beeped.
In the lobby with my suitcase. Ready when you are.
I blew out a breath. Thank fuck. At least when we were together this weekend, she couldn’t be late to our meetings with the Kings. Not when I had the car.
I shrugged my suit coat back on and headed downstairs. She was standing amid the black-and-white lobby in black skinny dress pants and a silky teal blouse. She was in those same black heels that I couldn’t stop fantasizing about. Eve in those heels, only those heels. The red-lacquered backs visible from her on all fours. Christ, sometimes, I wondered what it would be like to ignore my relationship needs and give in to my baser desires.
Eve turned as she heard my approach. A slow smile spread across her red-painted lips. “Hey, you.”
“Hey. Ready?” I asked.
“Sure thing.”
“Is this all you packed?”
“We’re only staying one night,” she said with a laugh. “How much does a girl need?”
“From my experience? A lot.” I took the white suitcase out of her hand and wheeled it toward the door.
“I can carry my own stuff,” she argued, reaching for the suitcase.
I moved it away from her. “No.”
“No?” she asked, rearing back. “I lift weights. I could probably squat you, sir.”
“Sir?” It was my turn to shoot her an amused look.
“Oh, do you like that?” she teased.
Wouldn’t mind her saying it in the bedroom. Not that I could say that out loud.
“Just a reminder of who is in charge here.”
She rolled her eyes. “We’re partners. No one is in charge.”
She was very wrong about that.
“We’ll see.”
I unlocked my Lexus and added her suitcase next to mine in the trunk. She leaned her hip onto the side of the car and held her hand out. I stared down at it in confusion as I closed the trunk.
“What?”
“Keys,” she said with a wicked grin.
“Keys to what?”
“The car, of course. I know where all the cop traps are on the drive. I can get us there in an hour and a half.”
“If you’re going the speed limit, it doesn’t matter where the cops are.”
She rolled her eyes. “It also takes an extra half hour to get there.”
“Are we in a rush?”
“Come on, Whitt,” she said, making a gimme gesture with her hand. “Live a little.”
“No one drives my car.” I wrenched open the driver’s door. “You’re just going to have to suffer.”
“Can I at least choose the music?” she asked as she took her seat next to me.
“No.”
She laughed. “You’re a real control freak, you know that?”
Our eyes met across the leather interior. She’d said it as a joke, but she was completely right. Control was ingrained in my being, and it wasn’t just about who drove my car or chose the music. It was about so much more than that.
My hands flexed on the steering wheel. “I’m well aware.”
She licked her lips, crossing her legs tight together. “Ever let your hair down, sir?”