Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
When I step off the plane, the air envelops me in a warm and welcoming hug only slightly diminishing the ache in my chest.
The sunlight here is bright and clean. And it is beautiful. But my hands are freezing and my heart is pounding, and I’m so nervous that I can barely keep my thoughts in a row.
It’s driving me crazy that I can’t text Flint or Hale. They’ve become my safe place. My good spot. The men with whom I can just be myself. But even if I had their contact info, it wouldn’t feel right. Because what would I say, anyway?
So now here I am, all alone, in this beautiful place, to see someone new. Which isn’t what I want at all. But I have to make the best of it. Distraction is better than wallowing, so forward ho! I go.
A limo driver holds a sign with my first name on the other side of the open-air baggage claim, so I head that way. The driver is older, very distinguished, and very matter of fact. No small talk, no flirting. All baggage and business.
In the limo, we wind our way past the colorful outskirts of old San Juan, and then up and around the coast, onto pristine little roads with lush foliage, and sun-bleached pavement.
The limo slows in front of a compound, with high walls festooned with climbing plants and topped with curved Spanish tiles. The driver exits to open the gates with a big iron key, and then closes and locks them tight again once we pass. We make our way down a palm-lined avenue, and in the distance, I spot the ocean and a little marina at the base of a cliffs.
The driver helps me with my bag, shakes my hand politely, refuses my tip and then leaves me standing on the sandstone porch of the stunning light-yellow stucco mansion, with the sea breeze catching my hair.
I listen as the car pulls down the drive and swallow hard to steady myself. I check my phone one last time for any notifications from the work app telling me I have something from Hale or Flint. But there’s nothing at all.
My stomach twists into a tighter knot, thinking that somehow, me being at the event with one of them while the other one was there has ruined it all. Not hearing from them is tearing me to pieces, but for now, it’s up to me to find a way to put myself back together.
I blink at the broad, carved wooden door, feeling more nervous than ever.
My Spidey sense sends off a little flare, and I pause. I pull my hand back and take a breath.
I step back from the door and turn, looking out from the front entryway back toward the water.
Another look at my phone and I pull up the map of where I’m standing and drop the pin. Then I take a series of quick screen shots and shoot them over to Elana. The agency knows where I am, sure, but as she and I have always agreed, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
She replies with the a-okay emoji and I tuck my phone back into my purse.
Still trying to get a hold of my nerves, I step out into the sunshine and take a deep, tropical breath that warms my lungs, and shake off some of the chill of the Michigan winter at last.
Let’s do this thing. Let’s see who is waiting inside. It’s just a job…be professional. Collect your fee and worst case, you’re home in a week buying a shit ton more Ben & Jerry’s.
And, maybe a Jeep.
Turning, I start to head for the door again. But there, on my left, is a huge plate-glass picture window.
And inside, sitting across from one another on two luxurious sofas, are two men.
They’re having some intense sort of conversation, with waving hands and deep voices, turned slightly away from the window so their faces are masked by the sunlight flowing in from what must be a massive terrace on the back side of the house. They are wearing dark suits with white shirts, open collars. Strong thighs spread, thick forearms rippling under rolled-up Oxford shirts. But…
Wait just a freaking minute…
They turn, eyes flashing toward the door.
That’s Hale.
And that’s Flint.
My heart has just stopped beating.
CHAPTER 4
Flint
I stand from the sofa and pace the length of the room like a caged animal.
I know she got on the flight; I know she must be getting close to the villa by now. But the fucking driver isn’t answering my texts or calls, so I’ve got fuck all idea where she is exactly. But the closer she gets, the more I fucking want her. The closer she gets, the more nervous I am about this whole goddamned idea.
“There’s no way she’ll go for it, Dad. Not a chance in hell.” I run my fingers over my tight forehead.