Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
She reached forward and grasped my hands. “Fuck yes. Look at you, English. Please tell me you’re back. Already, that city has sucked the life right out of you.”
“I’m just pale,” I said with a laugh. “Life has not been sucked out of me. I have a meeting with Margery.”
“About coming back?”
“No. I still intend to stay through November.”
“Aren’t you bored with just one client?”
“If you met Court Kensington, you’d know that boy can keep you busy.”
Winnie winked. “Tell me all about it.”
I frowned. “Not like that.”
“Oh right, the rules,” Winnie said with an eye roll. “I think everyone should bone at least one client. Knocks your superiority down a peg.”
“I’ll take that into consideration,” I said, playfully nudging her.
This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation. It likely wouldn’t be the last either.
Because I wasn’t interested in Court. We’d just almost kissed. But we hadn’t. And it wasn’t ever going to happen. Never, ever.
“Okay, on to Margery I go.”
“Is this about the pictures?” Winnie asked.
I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “What pictures?”
Winnie frowned. “Oh god. Tell me you’ve checked your phone today. That you saw TMZ.”
“I…I haven’t. I’ve been a bit preoccupied.”
TMZ was publicist gold. The goal, of course, was to make sure nothing showed up there that you hadn’t sold to them on purpose. But sometimes, things slipped through the cracks.
I pulled up the tabloid, and Winnie leaned forward to look over my shoulder.
A gasp escaped my lips. “No.”
It was Josh and Celeste. Naked. In bed.
“Fuck!”
3
Court
Camden laughed so hard that I thought he was going to fall over. “She actually put you on lockdown? That woman has got some balls.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He just laughed harder. “Come on. It’s hilarious. You’re a grown-ass man, and your publicist thinks you’re so fucked up that she won’t let you leave the house.”
“I didn’t even fucking do anything.”
I snatched up a bottle of his best whiskey and poured myself a double. English had told me not to leave, but I wasn’t taking her shit. It wasn’t like Camden’s penthouse in Percy Tower was a den of debauchery. Or at least, not one that was going to make it into any papers.
“You did get arrested,” Camden said with a shrug, taking a hit off a joint.
“Fuck that, man. I didn’t know what the fuck Jane was doing.”
“Maybe you should have paid attention.”
“To what?” I asked. “Jane seemed like every other girl on the Upper East Side, except that she was unique and interesting. She had money. She had ambitions. She didn’t care how obnoxious I was or about any of my bad habits. She didn’t even ask me to fund her stupid club. I fucking offered.”
“Maybe you should care less,” Camden suggested with a straight face.
“Like you?” I asked. “If we’re bringing up Jane and the arrest, should we discuss your wife?”
His eyes narrowed. “No.”
Camden and Katherine had entered an arranged marriage about a year ago. Half the time, I thought he hated her, and half the time, I thought he was insanely in love with her. With Camden, it was hard to tell where his head was. His life was business, business, business. Running one of the most successful and lucrative hotel chains in the country sure helped that.
“I didn’t think so.” I plopped into a seat adjacent to him and sipped on my whiskey. “She just drives me up the wall.”
“Then fire her,” Camden said with a shrug.
“In case you’ve forgotten, I didn’t hire her.”
“So? You’re the one allowing yourself to be subjected to this.”
I sighed. “She’s just doing her job.”
“It sounds like she stepped over a line.”
God, how I wished she had.
How had I fucking misinterpreted her reaction so completely? I’d almost kissed her. Almost reached across that divide between publicist and client. I hadn’t even wanted to. It had just been instinct. Which was fucking insane because I hadn’t touched another girl since the night Jane was arrested. The first person shouldn’t be fucking Anna English. That made no sense.
“This whole thing is just…stupid.” I held my hand out for the joint.
He passed it to me, and I took a hit.
“What’s stupid is not letting her do her job if it’s working. Is it working?”
I shrugged and made another pull. “I guess.”
“Then stop fucking complaining. And don’t fucking take the whole thing. That’s the good shit.”
I laughed and passed it back to him, feeling a little more relaxed. “I’m only complaining because this lockdown is bullshit.”
Camden stretched his legs and stepped up to the pool table. He racked the balls and set the cue down. He picked up his lucky stick, rolled chalk across the top, and then aimed.
“Solids or stripes?” he asked.
I swallowed the last of my drink and stepped over. “Stripes.”
“Strippers it is,” he said with a chuckle as he hit the cue ball with perfect accuracy.