Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I swallowed hard, navigating to Red’s text messages.
>>Sam: Talk some sense into me. Tell me I always fall for guys too easily.
It only took a few minutes for Red to respond.
>>Red: That’s your signature move, Sam. You doing okay?
>>Sam: I think I’ll be fine. Just needed a voice of wisdom.
>>Red: Whoever it is, he’s not that important. When it’s right, you’ll know. I promise.
I locked my phone, turning it on silent before I slid under the sheets.
14
Fox
“And that is why you make the big bucks, Fox,” Mariya said, laughing as she held up her champagne glass to mine, clinking it.
“I just do my best. Always,” I said. I took a big sip of chilly, bubbly champagne.
We were in one of the private rooms at Imperium & Lux, one of the nightclubs where I’d taken countless business partners over the years. Live lounge piano music floated through the air from just around the corner in the main room, and the lighting was just dim enough to make everybody look beautiful. This was where I was supposed to turn on the charm, to put my best face forward.
Ben Chamberlight and two Chamberlight board members were supposed to have met us here an hour ago. We’d heard nothing from them until ten minutes ago, when Ben messaged me to say they’d been held up in a meeting and would try to make it “whenever they could.”
I’d been in situations like this countless times before. Ben acted like the world’s most important person, and most people treated him that way. I’d always treated him that way. But somehow, after so many days on the road away from this world, it felt off, somehow.
Kind of like I might have better places to be.
I felt numb. I’d been at the club for a couple of hours now, and I’d been trying to be a good host for Mariya. I didn’t know how to explain to her that my mind was elsewhere without seeming completely unprofessional.
We’d ordered the champagne a few minutes ago, and we’d been snacking on fresh fruit dipped in chocolate.
Even the damned food was another example of my mind being elsewhere. I kept wondering which of the chocolate-covered fruits would be Sam’s favorite. Would he prefer the classic strawberries? Or would he be bolder, going for the chocolate-dipped pineapple? I was supposed to be thinking about million-dollar deals, but instead I was just here picturing how Sam’s lips might look wrapping around this amazing fruit.
My priorities were completely fucked.
“Yoo-hoo,” Mariya said, waving her hands in front of my face. “Are you with me still?”
“Yes. Sorry. I’m here,” I said.
“I think the English word for that is bullshit,” she said, a wicked grin on her face.
I puffed out a laugh. “Okay. You called it.”
She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs and leaning back on the polished leather booth. Her long, black hair was up in a high ponytail, sleek and chic as always, and she tossed it over her shoulder. “So speak, American boy,” she said. “What’s going on in that head?”
“Too many things,” I admitted. “Mostly, I’m just wondering where Ben is.”
“Quit thinking about your boss and think about me instead,” she said, a challenge in her eyes. Mariya was certainly confident. She glanced around before leaning in close to whisper. “Because I don’t believe that boss of yours is ever going to show up, I’m going to tell you the real reason I’m here.”
A twinge of fear moved through my chest like ice.
Christ. What was I going to do if Mariya actually wanted to pursue something with me? At any other point in my life, it would have been a dream to go home with her. But right now, if I was honest, I couldn’t imagine being in bed with anyone but Sam.
“And what is that reason?” I asked, trying to keep my composure.
“I want to poach you.”
For a moment, I was confused. “Poach?”
“Yes, this is the word, right?” she said. “I want you to work for me. No, not for me—with me. I want to expand my firm to the United States, and I want you to be the head of North American operations.”
I was stunned into silence for a second. “Morozova Investments?”
“That is my firm, yes,” she said. “I know you’re familiar. Obviously, it would be a negotiation that would take at least a few months. But I wanted to… put it out there. So to speak.”
Suddenly the leather seat felt sticky and uncomfortable, and my collar felt too tight. I reached out for my champagne glass and it teetered on the tabletop, nearly falling over before Mariya reached out to hold it steady.
“Thank you,” I muttered quickly. I picked it up to down the rest of the drink.
The last 48 hours really had been like being strapped into an endless, twisting and turning roller coaster I couldn’t seem to get off of. What the hell was life throwing at me?