Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“Common sense? You’ve just made this a thousand times more complicated than it had to be,” I tell him. “And my dream wasn’t having someone drop six figures on a bookstore for me. Why did you do it? You’re already paying a fortune for my cooperation.”
If I’d been left to my own devices, maybe I could’ve used that money to invest in my own shop one day.
Ethan goes quiet for infinite seconds that pluck my nerves, almost to breaking.
“Pages, here’s the thing,” he starts. Weirdly, there’s no arrogance in his voice anymore. “You’re doing me a big favor, and I know it. Sometimes I can come off rather—” He clears his throat. “Brash. Impulsive. Whatever. But I haven’t forgotten how much I owe you. You’re saving my company and my ass personally by going along with this. Any amount is worth that if it helps make this easier on us. On you. If you’re giving me back my inheritance, why can’t I give you a small bonus?”
My heart twists.
“Oh,” I whisper.
I have no idea what to do with that.
…is Ethan Blackthorn being humble for once?
Doesn’t feel legit.
But it also does.
And before I can figure out what I’m supposed to feel besides raw confusion, he clears his throat again.
“Take this shit in the spirit it’s intended, Pages. I’ll see you soon for our dinner plans in New York.”
Then he hangs up, leaving me holding the phone in one hand, along with my bristling temper.
8
ALL DRESSED UP (ETHAN)
There’s nothing more pretentious than flying on your private jet.
I’m fully aware of it, just like I’m fully aware that this is the fastest and most efficient way of traveling to New York City.
I board nearly an hour before takeoff, taking one of the seats with the enormous lump of Ares sprawled out on the empty seat across from me. You can do anything when you fly private, and that includes letting the laziest basset hound alive rest his paws on designer leather while the jet cruises at thirty thousand feet.
Not that I would have brought him if it was entirely up to me. He could’ve stayed at home, slobbering by the fire with my cleaning staff taking care of him.
Only, when Mother heard I wound up with the dog, she threatened a massacre if I didn’t bring him to visit.
So here I am.
Bringing her the only legacy from Gramps she’ll ever care about.
Ares snorts like he knows what a chore this is, his big bloodshot eyes cracked and staring at me. I can’t tell if it’s an adoring look or not—he wears the same numb expression all the time, like someone just banned him from gobbling down his daily pile of salmon treats.
I feed him generously.
Even when he’s wagging his tail, he doesn’t look happy.
Finally, he stands, smacks his lips, and bellows a yawn like a dragon as he turns away from me, pawing at the cushion to make a nest in the seat with the blanket a flight attendant draped over him.
Ignoring him, I turn back to my laptop.
Better to get some work in while I wait.
A little while later, I see a car pulling up on the tarmac. Hattie gets out.
There’s a black dress on a hook hanging over her arm and her hair’s piled up neatly on her head.
Margot’s touch shines again, right down to her makeup.
Subdued pastel-pink lips today.
Probably best if I don’t look at her mouth. Or the way her hips sway as she walks. Or—dammit, anything.
Every movement she makes rocks that innocent librarian look that twists my balls in a vise.
I force my eyes back to my screen, reading the same sentence in my report three times as Hattie struts up the rollaway staircase and enters the jet.
Ares looks up and wags his thick tail the second he hears her greeting a flight attendant.
An earsplitting scream splits the air.
I’m about to toss the laptop aside and leap up, thinking Hattie’s hurt, but she’s running up the aisle to Ares.
“Good afternoon, beautiful boy!” She cups the old dog’s wrinkly face in both hands. “I haven’t seen you in ages. Do you remember me?”
He does, I’m sure.
Unfortunately.
And with this slobbery reunion, I’m also betting I won’t get much work done on this short flight.
It’s not like when we were kids and she was too shy to mutter more than a few words.
She has an energy now like a live current.
Although she isn’t the loudest one in the room—my sister steals the honor any day—she’s definitely the brightest.
I hate my imagination.
Ares licks her hand with the most enthusiasm I’ve seen in years.
Overgrown traitor mole dog.
“I can’t believe you brought him along for the ride,” Hattie gushes, glancing up at me with wide eyes. “I thought for sure you’d put him down.”
“He’s perfectly healthy for being five hundred in dog years. I’m not that much of a bastard,” I throw back.