Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“Clark and Lois are easy,” she said. “So I take it you were having fun last night, Mr. Hangover?”
I stood by the window, looking out at the falling snow. “I was, actually,” I said. “I had a ton of fun. I went to a winter festival, and had a snowball fight, and built a snowman.”
“Holy shit, hell has frozen over,” Nicole said. “Jamie Blau actually likes snow.”
“That’s a strong way of putting it. But I did have a good time. And then I ended up in this guy’s hotel suite, which was like, the size of three houses, and he had this really good single-malt scotch. Which isn’t a sentence I ever thought I’d say.”
Nicole whistled. “Excuse me,” she said. “Fancy fancy. Is this guy cute?”
“He isn’t cute, he’s drop-dead gorgeous.”
I heard her gasp. “Tell me everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” I said. “Don’t get too excited. His name’s Landry, and he’s an investor or something. Has houses in Colorado and Los Angeles. Looks like a goddamn model. And for some reason, he wants to be my friend, even though I think he pities me, a little bit.”
I felt a little uneasy saying that last part.
“Pities you?” Nicole said. “How?”
“He tried to offer me a deal to rent a house from him in Orange County,” I explained. “But apparently the place is usually eight grand a month. He’d have to give me a deal so good he’d be losing tons and tons of cash, and I don’t know why he’d want to rent to me, anyway. I don’t know. It made me feel pitiable.”
“Pitiable? Shit. He must really like you.”
I let out a breath, massaging my temple with my fingers. “You know how I am, Nicole. I want a guy to like me for me, not because he wants to swoop in and be my guardian angel, or something.”
“I know you like to be independent so badly that you let it bite you in the ass, all of the time,” Nicole said, a knowing tone in her voice. “If that’s what you’re referring to?”
I groaned. “Sometimes I forget you know me a little too well. And sometimes I hate it.”
“I think some part of you probably likes this guy, too.”
“Are you kidding?” I said. “Most parts of me like this guy. My head, my hands, definitely my—”
“Okay, okay, I’m going to stop you there,” Nicole said, and I heard the sound of her laughing. “All I’m saying is, send a selfie next time you guys hang out, because he sounds hot, and I want to get a look at him even if you drop him like a hot potato for daring to offer you a good deal on rent.”
“I need a boyfriend, not a landlord,” I told her. “That’s what I told him.”
She hummed. “I wouldn’t want to be in that situation, either. But he sounds like a good person.”
I breathed deep. “He really is. But I don’t know if I’ll be able to send a selfie,” I said. “After last night, he probably doesn’t want to ever hang out with me again.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, Jamie. Have fun today, okay?”
“After a breakfast of two ibuprofen and a giant coffee, I think I might have a chance at that.”
“Protein. Eat something with protein!”
As we hung up I realized I was smiling, even through my hangover and regret from last night.
I hopped in the shower and turned it up hot. The water pressure and temperature were about a billion times nicer here than I was used to, and I took my time, letting it beat down over my muscles.
I needed to push the reset button on this trip.
To forget about Landry and explore a little more of the town, maybe go out for an inexpensive lunch with Mom.
I only had a few days left here, and I knew I may as well make the most of it. I was going to have to see Landry around the wedding tomorrow, but after that, I’d be heading back to California the next day.
It wasn’t until I went to get dressed and head out of my room that I remembered my big, puffy jacket—my only jacket—was still up in Landry’s room.
I cursed under my breath.
Okay. So I was going to have to interact with him one-on-one at least for this, but I could handle that.
I swung by the hotel lobby first, grabbing two big cups of coffee before heading up to the top floor and knocking on Landry’s door.
Even the front door itself is bigger than the one for my room, I thought idly. Last night I hadn’t noticed it, probably because I’d had alcohol swimming through my blood and had been solely focused on nothing but Landry.
His scent. His height. Every stupidly perfect thing about him.
The door swung open.
I was surprised to see Landry already dressed—very nicely dressed—in a fancy, slate grey suit.