Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 41105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Still, I manage to make good time.
Ryder
16 down. 4 to go.
As I’m stepping into seventeen, I notice a pair of custom stilettos in the last stall.
Sighing, I walk over to the mirror and take off my mask. I reapply a bit of eyeshadow and gloss, and suddenly the sound of my favorite concerto plays outside in the ballroom.
My heart aches a bit at the idea that I’ll never get to dance to it—or anything else with Ryder tonight, but the sound of the last stall flushing snaps me out of those thoughts.
Seven minutes…
The door opens, revealing a woman in a stunning red dress and complementary heels.
“Oh wow,” she says, smiling. “Your dress is incredible.”
“Thank you. Yours, too.”
“I hate to see that you’ve spent most of tonight in the bathroom.” Her smile is gone. “You must have an extremely weak bladder, or…” She takes off her mask, revealing herself to be the FBI agent I saw weeks ago.
“My restroom habits are none of your business, Miss Poole,” I say.
“They are when I get the feeling there’s something behind them.” She sets her mask on the sink. “What does he have you doing?”
“He?”
“Cute.” She nods. “Playing dumb isn’t a good strategy against the federal government. I haven’t received a call from you.”
Six minutes…
“I haven’t had the time.”
“I doubt that.” She steps closer. “What are you really doing here tonight, Miss Jane?”
“Trying to enjoy the mayor’s event.”
“You’re not on the guest list,” she says. “Neither is your boyfriend, but… I’m not concerned about that since that’s his typical M.O.”
“Is your M.O. randomly bothering strangers?”
“You even have his witty cadence.” She smiles again. “The sex must be really good.”
“It is.”
She arches a brow, and I recall Ryder’s advice.
“He hired me several weeks ago to pick up some things, and we ended up crossing the line,” I say. “I did a few other minor jobs for him and when he’s in town he fucks me and I fuck him back.”
She blinks.
“Should I put my hand behind my back now?” I ask. “Is that a crime?”
“Getting too close to this man will eventually lead to one,” she says. Then she turns on the faucet to wash her hands. “Now, tell me what job he has you doing tonight and I’ll give you an extension on a formal phone call.”
Silence.
“Oh my god!” A woman suddenly bursts through the door. “Someone help me, please! My husband collapsed, please!”
Miss Poole dries her hands and points at me. “Stay right there. I’ll be back.”
She leaves the bathroom, and my phone sounds in my purse.
Ryder
She won’t be back for a while.
Move.
Relieved, I quickly place the sticker and when I leave, I move around the small crowd of people addressing a man on the floor. A man who looks… a lot like one of Ryder’s guards.
I hold back a laugh and make my way to number eighteen and complete it with ease.
Nineteen and twenty are handled between my favorite bass interludes, and Chester nods at me in approval from across the ballroom.
There’s no final text from Ryder, so I hang back and watch the dance floor.
As couples twirl and sashay to the music, I can’t help but remember the last time I was at an event like this—when I caught Nate cheating. And although this is different, my inability to make a scene remains the same…
I’m sipping my fourth glass of champagne, constantly checking and rechecking my phone for a message that says it’s okay for me to leave.
“Miss Jane?” A man in all black clears his throat at my left.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Rochester kindly requests that you take a ride on the elevator, to the fifth level.”
I glance up the atria, seeing nothing but lush greenery amidst twinkling lights hanging off the fifth level’s railing.
“Tell him I’ll take the ride after I have another glass.”
“You know he means now, Miss,” he says. “Don’t make me have to report any difficulties.”
“Fine.” I toss back the rest of my glass. “I’ll leave now.”
“Thank you.”
Slowly making my way through the crowd, I head to the elevator bank. When the glass doors glide open, one of Ryder’s men is already inside.
“What floor, Miss Jane?” he asks, and I know I don’t really have to answer him.
He presses five, and I watch the car move farther away from the party.
The doors open and I slowly step off and move to the railing, but a familiar hand grabs mine and pulls me into the shadows.
“You were supposed to call me when you were finished.”
“You didn’t say that.”
“Pardon my assumption.” He looks me up and down, eyeing every inch of my dress. “You look fucking stunning in that dress.”
“Thank you.” I blush.
“I’m looking forward to seeing what it looks like after I take it off you…” He pulls me against his chest, and I brace for a long kiss—but his lips don’t meet mine.