Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 73462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“I thought you told Sebastian you were going to get settled,” I say to her.
“I did. And I was. But I got sidetracked on the way up to my suite and ended up back here. I couldn’t resist one of these mimosas.” She takes another sip.
I’m about to reply when a familiar presence brushes past me—Sebastian.
He’s back. Probably ready to show Darby around.
I don’t turn, but I feel the heat of him, his closeness. He lingers for just a second too long, like he wants to say something—to me or to Darby?—but he doesn’t.
Then he’s gone.
He strides across the deck toward the bar, his jaw tight, his shoulders squared. As much fun as it’s been fooling around with some of the others, I’ve had the best fucks with Sebastian.
I exhale slowly. Darby’s still talking, but my focus is elsewhere now.
I tear my gaze away from Sebastian and glance back at Darby. She’s watching him too.
Damn it.
“He’s hot,” Darby murmurs.
I simply nod. Calling Sebastian Tate hot is like calling the Pacific Ocean big—technically true, but nowhere near enough to capture the sheer magnitude of it. Sebastian doesn’t just turn heads. He commands attention, and not just when he’s rocking onstage. He’s the kind of man who walks into a room and alters the atmosphere, makes the air heavier, hotter, charged with something electric. Looking at him too long feels dangerous, like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing full well I’m about to fall.
And I know a lot about falling.
“What’s his story?” Darby continues.
“He’s a rocker. You know that.”
“Right, but you know what I mean.”
“Do I?” I raise an eyebrow at her. In truth, I don’t have a clue what she means. If she’s not here to marry a billionaire, why would she care what Sebastian’s story is?
She smiles. “You, then. What’s your story?”
Sure, I have a story. A story I’ll never tell.
“What you see is what you get,” I reply.
Darby doesn’t pry, which I appreciate. Instead, she tilts her head slightly. “Then what’s your angle?” she asks.
I chuckle. “Angle? Is that another way to ask for my story?”
“No, not exactly. You’re here for a billionaire, right?”
“That’s what they say.”
She studies me for a moment. “And what do you say?”
I glance over at Sebastian. “I say a woman can have more than one reason for being here.”
Darby smiles. “Fair enough.”
Something about Darby intrigues me. I’ve learned to read people in my line of work. After all, a hairstylist is a therapist in many ways. I’ve learned to trust my intuition, and right now, it’s telling me to tread carefully.
Darby is too observant, too calm. She’s here, but she doesn’t need to be. She didn’t come to snag a billionaire.
Or did she?
I don’t trust her. Hell, I don't trust anyone.
But I think I like her.
Before I can push further, a shadow falls over us.
“Enjoying yourselves?”
I know that voice.
I turn slightly, looking up into Misty’s piercing blue eyes.
“You’re back,” I say.
Seems logical. Just when I’m sensing something weird, the personification of weird shows up.
Darby flashes Misty a bright, easy smile. “Heather and I are just getting to know each other.”
Misty’s gaze flickers to me. I hold it, unblinking.
There’s something in her expression—something calculating. Nothing new there.
Misty tilts her head. “Heather, always in the middle of things.”
I smirk. “You know me. I like to keep things interesting.”
“Yes, you do.” Misty lingers for another beat before turning, striding away without another word.
Darby exhales, shaking her head. “She’s intense. What’s her story?”
Again with the stories. “She’s an heiress, as you know. And she’s kind of…odd.”
Darby raises her eyebrows.
“Not in a scary way or anything,” I say. “But she came here with an agenda.”
“Didn’t you all?”
Darby has a point. We all came to meet the billionaires, to hopefully marry one.
But I get an unnerving feeling—the same feeling I get from Misty.
Misty is playing some kind of game, and I have a sneaking suspicion that Darby may be as well.
She’s feeling me out.
Fine. I can play my part.
After all, I’ve been playing a part for years.
EPISODE 194
TEARS
River
I’ve spent my whole life making choices I can’t take back.
Some were easy. A few weren’t even mine to make. Then there’s the one that sat inside my chest like a weight, pressing harder with every passing year. The kind that rewrote who I am.
Keeping Jake’s secret.
What choice did I have? He’d have gone to juvie. Poor guy had been through enough in his life, going hungry half the time, knocking up his girl.
And then losing her to that old fucker.
No one missed Old Man Larson.
As for Marnie…well, the search went on for months. She was never found.
Jake’s body was never found either.
I still remember standing over Jake and helping him find the words as he wrote the suicide note. “Keep it short,” I told him. “No details.”
I can still recite it by heart.