Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“But I’m one of the lucky ones who gets to live it.” She tests a slice of salami, and a soft grunt shows her approval. “The electric company likes it when I pay my bill. The store pays me to work. It’s pretty simple.”
“What is it you want to do?”
She eyes me over the rim of her glass as she takes a sip of her wine that quickly turns to her downing half the glass at once. I doubt she’s ever had anything so fine. “Is that a serious question?”
“I don’t ask anything but serious questions.”
“It’s just... you seem to know so much about my life, and you assume what I want to do plays any part in it. Make it make sense.”
“Point taken.” I hadn’t expected this from her. This sassy attitude that only seems to intensify the more she drinks. That’s by design. I want her loose, willing to share. I also want her to obey my commands.
“What about you?”
“Why don’t you eat, instead?” I nod over her shoulder, where a pair of staff members carry our prime rib along with a handful of side dishes—potatoes au gratin, creamed spinach, and macaroni and cheese studded with chunks of lobster and shrimp. Her eyes might very well fall out of her skull if she’s not careful. “Please, help yourself.” There’s something oddly satisfying about watching her dig in with abandon. She doesn’t hesitate to accept another large glass of wine, either. This is going well. Better than I’d hoped, anyway.
Or so I want to believe until she meets my gaze. “How did you know I left the room?”
I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. “I just did. I make it my business to know what goes on under this roof.”
“How did Griffin know where to find me? He just like showed up at the store. I never told him where I work.”
“You would have to ask Griffin about that.”
“So he went on his own? Without any orders from you?”
“Like I said. He would be the one to ask. My business is knowing everything here at the hotel.”
The way she saws her knife through the perfectly tender meat tells me she would rather use that knife on me.
“Are you in the habit of following orders when you have no idea who gave the order?”
She barely glances up from the plate, making me wait until she’s chewed a bite of steak before answering. “It depends. Do those random orders basically threaten my brother’s life?”
“I don’t think anyone threatened your brother’s life. It was just the opposite.”
Her eyes twinkle, and I know she has me trapped before she swallows her potatoes and opens her mouth. “How would you know if you didn’t send the message?”
Most people become slower when they drink. This girl only gets sharper. I need to learn to expect the unexpected. “Did you send it?” she challenges.
“What difference does it make? You’re here, and it’s because you want to help your brother.”
“And am I helping my brother?”
Her gaze is clear. She doesn’t back down from my penetrating stare the way most people do. Am I wrong to assume she needs help? She seems fairly on top of things. Or is that bravado brought on by alcohol? I’m overthinking this. The girl I met when she faked her way into my room is the real Teagan. Wide-eyed, innocent, naive. Well-meaning but harmless.
“Where are the guys who got arrested?” she asks before accepting a fresh glass of wine. “The guys from the car? Dave and Karl.”
I wonder how she’d react if I told her where she could find Dave this very minute. The idea is almost tempting enough to make me go ahead and shock her. She would learn to stop asking questions. “You assume I would know.”
“Come on.” Her amused snort tells me the wine is starting to work its magic. “Don’t tell me you didn’t find out all about them just like you did about me.”
“How is your food?”
She looks down at her plate, which is now mostly empty, thanks to the way she’s plowed through everything in front of us. “Obviously, inedible. I’ve been forcing my way through to protect your feelings. I might puke later.”
“If you ever decide to abandon the glamour of the grocery store, stand-up comedy might be a good fallback.”
Her lips twitch before she lifts her glass. “Everything was delicious.”
“You should be grateful for that rather than asking a lot of questions you know I’m not going to answer.”
Something inside me rears up in recognition of the grim determination that flashes across her lovely face. Something that’s always there but usually sleeping, like a dormant volcano that decides to show signs of life all of a sudden. She’s a challenge. I have enough of them in my life already. I shouldn’t welcome yet another one.