Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“They’ve managed pretty well in Phoenix.”
“That’s a nightclub, not a fucking hotel and casino in Vegas. Do you like the feds up your ass? Because that’s where they’ll be living for the foreseeable future.”
“They can crawl as far as they want up there. They’re not gonna find what they’re looking for. That, I can promise you. We’re a hundred percent legit. And who else are we going to fund this with? You?” Merrick counters.
“You know I would if I could.”
“I know, and I would never ask you to.” Merrick shrugs. “We’ve wanted to do this for years, but it’s too much risk to go in on our own, and we have challenges finding people who can look past our name, forget the Eastons. And they’re not that bad.” He pauses as if to think about his last words, then corrects himself. “Gabriel’s not that bad.”
“But Gabriel’s in Phoenix, running his club. You’ve got his lunatic brother.”
“Yeah. Caleb’s a bit of a loose cannon,” Merrick admits, smoothing a hand over the back of his neck as if to release tension. “I’m learning how to handle him.”
Henry’s eyebrow arches in question, earning Merrick’s scowl.
“Not like that.”
Henry carves into his tenderloin. “I’m just saying, guys like that will always cause you problems, and you’ve had enough of those to last three lifetimes.”
“Yeah, maybe. But it’s too late now.”
The two men realize I’m listening to them, and they both adjust in their seats.
“We’ll have to thank the chef personally. This meal is fantastic,” Henry says around a mouthful, as if they weren’t just talking about lunatic brothers and the FBI up Merrick’s ass.
“Raj said they were the best.”
A few awkward beats pass. Clearly, I wasn’t supposed to be eavesdropping.
“So, Abbi … looking forward to the party tonight?” Merrick slides a roasted carrot into his mouth.
I force a smile. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”
“It will,” he agrees with an exaggerated nod, but humor dances in those blue eyes. “Especially in your costume.”
I grit my teeth. An exclusive, elite costume party and I’ll bet every female in there will be wearing something sexy. Meanwhile, I’ll be picking hair out of my mouth to get a drink. The more I think about it, the angrier I get. Merrick picked a terrible costume for me. He knows it, and the jerk is gloating.
Henry sees right through my act. “What’s going on, Abbi?”
Merrick glares in warning.
“Nothing.”
“Abigail.” There’s that tone.
I can’t hold it in anymore. Besides, I have no loyalty to Merrick and what’s he going to do to me? “You told me I would look good tonight.”
“Yes.” Henry frowns. “And?”
“And Merrick told me it’s a circus theme.”
“Did he now.” Henry glares at Merrick.
Merrick shakes his head at me in dismay. “Sorry, man. She looked up at me with those big, beautiful eyes, and I couldn’t lie to her.”
“He has me going as the bearded lady!” There’s a touch of whine in my voice that I’m embarrassed about.
“To be fair, she guessed that part.” Merrick takes a sip of his wine.
Henry purses his lips for one … two … three seconds before his head tips back and a loud, booming laugh escapes him.
“She pounced on me the second you were out of the room. Played out just like you said it would, man.” Merrick holds his glass up.
Henry clangs his against it in a toast. “Fuck, I missed you, Mer.”
Wait a minute. I gape at Merrick. “Were you lying to me? I’m not going as the bearded lady?”
He winks. “I told you not to bother trying.”
“That time Dean Warrick caught Preston in his daughter’s room?”
Preston groans and covers his face as Warner, Henry, and Merrick burst out laughing.
“I remember looking out my window and seeing a bare, white ass trying to run through knee-deep snow,” Merrick manages, gasping for air.
“And then he lost his balance and star-fished facedown,” Henry adds.
“Listen, you arseholes! I got frostbite on my dick that night!” Preston yells with indignation.
“Next time grab your clothes before you jump out a window in the dead of winter,” Warner throws back, absently keying an upbeat tune on the baby grand piano in the corner. “Or don’t get caught fucking the dean’s daughter.”
Dinner is finished and we’ve moved to the living room where the bartender plies us with drinks and the guys regale us with embarrassing boarding school stories. The only one not laughing is Tatiana, who’s parked on the couch, consumed by editing pictures of herself on her phone.
“Come on, I may have fucked the dean’s daughter, but Wolf takes the crown.” Preston jams a finger toward Henry. “How many times with our English teacher?”
Henry smooths a hand over his mouth as the men explode in a raucous roar.
“In detention once, right?” Warner asks. “Also in the library one night, after it closed.”
“Henry!” Margo exclaims. “How old were you?”
“Sophomore year,” Preston answers for him.