Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Hope blooms in my chest like cascading wildflowers.
Deep breath.
“Of course, if you have more pressing concerns, forget I asked.” Shepherd clears his throat, staring at me intently. “I thought you’d like a chance to see them well within the boundaries of our state. I’d like to assess how practical it might be if we refine our product designs to include submersibles for underwater observations.”
I grin. “Sure, sure. That makes sense.”
“What are you implying, Miss Destiny?” He quirks a brow. “I have no ulterior motive.”
“You’re such a bad liar. But I love it.” I reach across and touch his leg, marveling that I’m allowed to do that.
This level of physical contact, at least in the privacy of the car, still makes me feel like I’m getting away with something impossible.
And there goes my heart again.
But I really need to be less happy about this.
Sei whales or not, it’s only going to hurt more when it comes to a bone-crushing end, won’t it?
Yet, I can’t stop my dumb mouth from saying, “It sounds amazing. When do we leave?”
There it is.
That small signature smile of his that shames the summer sun.
The lines of his face soften just enough before he snaps back to being all business.
“We’ll discuss the logistics later. Are you ready for this meeting?” he asks sharply.
I’m a little thankful reality smacks me in the face.
“I don’t know. As ready as I’ll ever be?” I fiddle with the buttons on my blouse.
Maybe I should’ve changed into something prettier. The restaurant Meghan chose—on Shepherd’s generous dime, of course—is one of the hippest and most expensive newer places in Ballard.
I don’t usually worry about whether my business casual is business-y enough to be intimidating. But this whole situation has me on edge as we dart through Seattle traffic in silence.
If this goes badly, there might be such a blazing fire to put out that there won’t be any sei whale excursions at all.
“You look fine,” Shepherd says as we pull up to the place, almost like he can read my mind.
“Thanks.” Another deep breath.
I should probably do something about my lung capacity, given how often I’m needing to breathe lately.
“You ready?” He grabs my hand and squeezes so tight.
I want to cry.
But for him, I need to be brave.
“Yeah. Let’s do this.”
The restaurant is a high-end Italian place with intimate lights hanging over tables and tasteful ambient music playing in the background.
I spot her immediately.
Meghan Tea shines at a table in the corner, sitting with a garishly dressed woman beside her.
I wonder if it’s her lawyer.
I didn’t know she’d be bringing company, but since it’s me and Shepherd, I guess it’s only fair.
As we approach, the older woman stands and jabs her hand at Shepherd first, then me.
“Hi, hi! I’m so glad you two could make it.” She kisses the air beside my cheek. “I’m Adriana Cerva, Meghan’s mom and manager.”
Meghan, surprisingly, barely looks up when we sit. Her usually perky, whip-sharp demeanor seems subdued.
Even her newer fire-red hair hangs limply around her face, and her lips are pursed in a way that’s hard to interpret.
But it doesn’t look like a happy face.
“Hey, Meghan,” I venture, trying to feel her out for hostility. But she just glances up briefly, gives me the slightest smile, and then looks down at the menu again.
She’s not reading it, though.
Her eyes are too still, almost like she’s staring right through it to the center of the Earth.
Okayyy.
Not what I expected.
To be fair, we’ve only met once or twice in person, very briefly at social media marketing conventions. Pretty normal, considering we’re on opposite sides of the influencer fence.
But I’ve seen her videos plenty with how much algo love she gets, even if they make me roll my eyes.
She’s not like this in her content.
She’s always perky, brash, and ready to swing her sarcasm around like a brandished sword.
Then again, with something this serious and her mom-manager along for the ride, maybe she’s just playing it cool. I’ve heard of outrageous people having a professional side.
Maybe her mom even told her to rein it in or something.
“Food first, right?” Adriana says with a fake laugh that slides down my back like a cheese grater. The frosted blonde tips of her hair look bleached almost white.
The woman is a talking mannequin trying to cling to her youth.
That’s my first impression.
Shepherd and I just order espressos as Adriana picks the most expensive pasta salads and cocktails for herself and Meghan.
She makes idle small talk as we wait, doing everything she can to drive home the fact that her daughter is famous, and she’s the whole reason for making Meghan Tea a national sensation.
Jeez Louise.
If she flashes her Chanel bag at me one more time...
Beside me, Shepherd’s face is pure ice.
That cool, hard edge he wears that makes it plain he’s not impressed by her act in the slightest, even if he stays perfectly polite.