Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
“You don’t have to marry them. Just make small talk. Put yourself out there for once instead of being wrapped up in your laptop.”
It feels surreal to be hearing those words from my dad whose picture would be in the dictionary if I searched for workaholic. “When was the last time you went on a date?”
“That’s different.” He glances out the window.
For a second, I feel like a total bitch. Even if the wound was unintentional, I still pressed on a part of my father’s heart that aches. “I didn’t mean—”
He holds up a hand. “Do as you wish tonight.”
The limo pulls to a stop and I take a deep breath. Mom said to make Dad happy and really, talking to a couple of guys for a few minutes can’t be all bad. Once I do that, I’ll find a place to transform into Miss Karma and get focused on my mission.
Eric
Sitting at the bar, I scan the crowd of people. I’m looking for my boss. Hell, it’s not him I really want to see.
It damn near killed me today when I saw Atlas in those cute little panties, ass cheeks winking at me. I wanted to sink my teeth into that juicy flesh, then spin her around and drag my tongue across that little triangle between her creamy thighs.
Movement catches my eye, interrupting my wicked thoughts.
Michael enters the hotel ballroom with Katie on one arm, and Atlas on the other. She’s dressed in a pink flowing gown that makes me wonder if she’s still wearing the same panties from earlier. Is she wearing panties at all?
I shift on the barstool, reminding myself that a business event is not the place to be getting a hard-on for the boss’s daughter.
She brushes her long, blonde curls away from her face, a gesture I’ve seen her do a thousand times. There’s a small freckle on the side of her hand. Seeing it always makes me wonder where else she has freckles.
Meanwhile, Michael is beaming at everyone. He greets dozens of people without missing a single name.
When the Abernathy family approaches him, I take a long swallow of my scotch and try to ignore the burning in my gut.
As I suspected, the oldest boy likes what he sees when he looks at Atlas. Too bad she’ll be bored to tears within five minutes of meeting him. Dear old Charlie might be perfect on paper but he’s about as interesting as a rock with dung on it.
He leans close to her, whispering something in her ear and she laughs. She fuckin’ laughs at his joke. He can’t be that funny.
He gestures toward the dance floor in the middle of the room and she follows him onto it. When he slides his hand around the soft skin of her back, I have an overwhelming urge to stalk across the room and rip his arm from his socket.
By the time they’re done swaying together, my jaw aches from the pressure of my molars against each other and I’m one second from punching the stupid kid out.
Pushing off the barstool, I move toward the smiling couple. I’m prepared to tell Charles the Third where he can shove his charming little smile when Michael claps a hand on my shoulder.
He gives me a nod of approval. “You were right. Charlie was a solid pick. How’d you know?”
“Just one of those things,” I answer, scanning for Atlas. Damn, she’s gone already, and I can’t see Charlie, which means he’s probably with her.
“Listen, there’s someone I want you to meet. He’s a potential client who has questions that are outside of my scope.” He gestures for me to follow him.
I glance around for Atlas and Charlie one more time. Thinking about the things they could be doing in some dark corner of the hotel has my blood pressure skyrocketing. “Let’s make it brief.”
Michael chuckles. “Got a skirt to chase?”
Yeah, your daughter’s. “Something like that.”
Atlas
Charlie is the world’s biggest bore. When he’s not talking about the price of his father’s yacht or his own collection of Aston-Martin cars, he’s making lame jokes and covering for what appears to be seriously low self-esteem.
None of it is a turn-on.
Still when he invites me outside for a walk, I accept. The sooner I can get out of here and ditch Charlie, the sooner I can transform into Miss Karma.
After a few minutes of awkward small talk in the courtyard, Charlie leans in and kisses me. It’s sloppy and gross, nothing like Eric’s sensual kiss.
I step away from Charlie, fighting the urge to grimace. Instead, I say, “Did that feel…?”
“Zero chemistry. Probably because I’m a ten and you’re only a three.” He chucks me under the chin. “Don’t let it get you down. There are lots of guys here tonight and your father is loaded.”
He turns and leaves while I’m still staring after him, completely speechless.