Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
No time for that shit, and no heart to spare.
For me, there’s only time to rock Delia’s universe and hope I don’t leave her totally wrecked for the lucky bastard who finally gives Cinderella the fairy tale she deserves.
* * *
My gut churns and I’m shaking my head constantly as I pull up to the place.
The mansion could rival the showiest billionaire’s compound with its tall iron gate and a winding driveway that curls on forever.
Sure, I knew the latest rich dick Mom hooked up with was loaded, but it’s hard for me to believe just how rich this prick really is.
There’s a guardhouse and everything manning the entrance. The slim, perma-frowning older man inside looks like he wants to search my truck for burglary tools.
I flash my badge with a sigh.
What fucking guard wears a suit and tie for perimeter duty outside a formal event, anyway? He looks more like a hotel clerk than an imposing professional.
The kind Bruce Burr employs, apparently.
Jeeves looks closely at my ID before giving me a reluctant nod and waving me through.
Stuck-up prick.
All of them.
Worse, I know it’s just a matter of time before Ma flames out and lands herself in rehab again, sending Mr. Executive running off to his next trophy wife.
For now, he probably thinks he hit the jackpot with a fallen starlet. Her looks are the only thing that haven’t faded yet with the ocean of alcohol she’s thrown at her liver.
I’m sure her husband sees her as something special. The eyes of a newlywed are always blind to flapping red flags.
Whatever.
He’ll find out what he’s gotten himself into soon enough.
I pass the keys to a waiting valet when I pull up to the curb.
When I get out and look around, I have to grudgingly admit it’s a beautiful slice of virgin California real estate.
The house is perched near high cliffs marching into the ocean, boasting what must be at least a fifty-million-dollar view of Pacific paradise.
A weird familiarity whacks me between the eyes.
Do I know this place?
I squint at the beach behind the house as the wind hits me in the face. No trace of any recent events or sand kicked up by crowds walking through it.
My gaze goes higher. Everything looks different at night, but I think I climbed a few of these cliffs in the distance. Maybe I saw this place from a different angle.
Then it dawns on me.
Oh, shit.
This must be a few miles down the road from the party I crashed last night, and the princess I’m aching to ruin.
A fierce smile pulls at my lips.
Fate has a wicked sense of humor. Maybe I’ll be getting laid sooner this evening if Delia lives a few houses down.
I walk through the double door entrance and stop when I see the huge crystal chandelier and sprawling staircases.
It’s like walking onto one of Mother’s fancy sets when I was a boy and she still had a career. Or maybe one of those historic homes she used to drag me to for charity grandstanding before her career slipped away with her sanity.
My new stepdad has impeccable taste. I’ll give the jackass that.
“Christopher!” A loud squeal gives me less than a second to turn and brace before she hits me. “Oh my God, I thought you’d never come home, darling. Let me show you to your room.”
“You don’t need to put me up overnight. The company’s paying for—”
“Christopher, please. You’re home.” Ma still has the same high-strung, insecure tone she’s used with me since I was sixteen.
Since I stopped obeying her like a trained poodle.
And even after all her battles, she still wields that damnably puppy-eyed mom look like a lethal weapon. Her green eyes bore through me, only a shade duller than mine.
“Whatever,” I growl, peeling away after a quick squeeze. “Let’s get this dinner over with first. You know I have plans after dinner?”
“As long as you’ll stay a while and catch up with us, darling. It’s been too long—and that’s tragic when you’re closer than ever since you left the service and signed on with that company. Aren’t you right here in town?”
I don’t bother answering.
I already know how she feels about my career and life choices.
Deep down, she’s still pissed I passed on a college degree that would’ve been a ticket to a safe, easy, snooze-worthy life in banking or whatever the fuck.
“This is your home now, Chris, and we’re happy to have you as long as you’d like,” she says cheerfully, as if I don’t already know. “At least try the bed out? It’s the latest memory foam. I haven’t slept so deep on mine for years! Truly, every night off those nasty little cots does wonders for your posture. Your spine will thank you when you’re forty.”
“I’ll worry about that in about fifteen years.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I follow her upstairs.