Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Then, with a fierce tenderness that anchored me, Cooper held my gaze, his voice unwavering.
“I will always search for you, Briar. Even if I never found you, I would keep scouring every corner of the earth on the slightest chance that you’d find out and realize the truth. You were always wanted. There has never been a moment in your entire life that you weren’t loved.”
Chapter Ninety-Eight
Briar
Not again.
I dropped my duffel bag to the carpet with a soft thud and wiped my keycard on the edge of my shirt. A yawn ripped past my throat.
Cooper and I swapped stories past sunset, only stopping when the twins begged for dinner. As much as I wanted to join, I could barely keep my eyes open. Marcy, the director, would kill me if I showed up late to the morning meeting. Besides, my family would be in their Grand Regent suite all summer, courtesy of Ollie’s arrangement.
I swiped my keycard again and waited for the telltale green light. Nothing. With a frown, I swiped yet again, this time slower. The lock stayed red. A dull, angry beep confirmed my suspicion. My blood pressure spiked. The fast thump-thump of my heart ricocheted between my ears.
“No, no, no. Not again.” I pressed my forehead to the cold door. “Fucking Oliver.”
I’d kill him.
After I thanked him.
A maid backed out of a room down the hall, pushing a cart stacked high with towels.
“Hey, there.” I flagged her down, trying to keep my voice level despite feeling like I’d just stepped on a Lego barefoot. “I’m so sorry to ask, but can you let me into my room? I think my keycard broke during my work trip.”
“I’m not allow—” The maid cocked her head, her eyes brightening a moment later. “Oh, of course, Mrs. von Bismarck. Welcome back.”
Mrs. von Bismarck?
I wanted to groan. What did Oliver tell his staff?
She swiped her master key while I weighed the pros and cons of strangling Oliver versus kissing him senseless.
Relax, Briar. You don’t know whether he did what you’re accusing him of.
Except he did. The maid proved it the second she swung open my door, revealing an empty unit. My mouth tumbled open. Everything – and I meant everything – was gone. Not just my unpacked boxes, mountain of clothes, and random knickknacks, but also the couch, bed, television, and coffee table. Things I didn’t even own.
Even my candles, half-burned on the counter, had disappeared. Someone had scrubbed away every trace of my fourteen hours here, emptying the floors of objects and replacing the walls with a fresh coat of paint that still reeked of chemicals.
“Oliver, you absolute madman.”
I resisted the urge to throw my keycard against the door. He’d done it again. It had to be him. Only he would have the utter audacity to cancel yet another lease of mine on a whim.
The maid patted my forearm. “Is everything okay, Mrs. von Bismarck?”
“Just peachy.” I pasted on the calmest smile I could, tucking the name she’d used to address me into the giant folder of existential crises I needed to sort through. “Thank you.”
She bid me farewell with a half bow, leaving me alone with my impressive collection of empty space. The woman probably thought I had an avant garde approach to minimalism.
What did Oliver mean by this? Surely, he didn’t expect me to move back to Potomac just because he liked playing Monopoly with my leases. We’d only gotten thirty days deep into our long-distance trial, and already, he’d pulled this stunt.
I kicked my duffel bag into the entryway, shut the door behind me, and palmed my phone, calling my self-appointed landlord on my warpath to the elevators.
He answered on the first ring, infuriatingly cheerful. “Cuddlebug. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Three seconds. I allowed myself exactly three seconds to close my eyes and enjoy the sound of his voice hugging me through the other line.
I miss you. Thank you, and thank you, and thank you. I will never be able to repay you enough for reuniting me with my father.
Then, I sobered, ready to iron out this mess.
“Pleasure? Try nightmare.” I tried to keep my tone fierce, though all I wanted to do was throw myself into his arms (and possibly strangle him while there). “Explain yourself, Oliver.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
My patience frayed like a cheap shoelace. “Why does my condo look like the aftermath of a heist?”
“Did you like what I did with the décor?” His pleased smirk practically curled through the phone like smoke.
The elevator dinged open.
“Love it.” I hopped inside and stabbed the lobby button. “It’s always been my dream to live in a storage unit.”
“I knew you’d appreciate the open concept.” He raised his voice to be heard over the crowd around him, undeterred by their volume. “All that extra space for your temper to run wild. Consider it therapy without the copay. You’re welcome.”