Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
“Really?” She tipped her chin up to stare at me, her heavy-lidded sex eyes zeroing in on mine. “You think they serve cannoli here?”
That earned her a bark of laughter from me. I couldn’t help it.
I wrapped my hands around her waist, the tip of my nose gliding down the slope of hers. “Bruce is here.” My lips moved over hers sensually, and her body sought mine, enveloping me instantly.
“I see.” She knotted her arms around my neck. “So this is all a big, fat ruse.”
“Watch where your hands are going, Coltridge.” Row’s predatory gaze locked on us from across the VIP room, eyes darkening into two pools of tar. “Or I’ll have to make sashimi out of you.”
“Stop it, Row,” Dylan chided, breaking free of my embrace. “I’m not a child.”
“You do call me daddy sometimes.” I frowned.
Row was about to pop an artery.
Bruce, suddenly there, coughed into his fist, half laughing, half choking. “Why’d you mind that he kisses your sister, Casablancas?” Bruce enquired. “They’re engaged to be married. Even I’m not that strict.”
A muscle twitched in Row’s jaw. He licked his lips. “Having a hard time letting go, I guess. I helped raise her, see.”
“Who’s taking care of Gravity?” Jolene, Bruce’s wife, asked.
I could tell by Cosmos’ smile she appreciated that the woman had remembered her daughter’s name. “My mom’s in town, and she doesn’t like big crowds, so she’s home helping me out.” Dylan stuck out her hand at Jolene, but the latter flung her arms around Dylan.
They hugged, immediately chatting about preschools with Cal.
“Tell me, Dylan.” Jolene clutched her hands. “Are you taking care of yourself? Do you use face masks? Paint your nails? Have a set time that is completely yours? Taking care of yourself is a part of taking care of others.”
Dylan nodded but didn’t answer. I knew why. Truth was she didn’t have that time for herself. Her nails weren’t painted, she never had a minute set aside just for herself, and for some ridiculous, messed-up reason, I was feeling guilty about it, even though I hadn’t been the one to knock her up.
Bruce and I shook hands. My grip crushed his, and I could tell by his surprised face he wasn’t expecting that. “How’re you doin’, son?”
“Good. And about to get better once you sign the contract I emailed you ten minutes ago.”
Bruce’s brows shot up his forehead. “Putting the cart before the horse, I see. I didn’t accept anything y—”
“You will.” I cut him off. “As soon as we leave your house after our upcoming test drive. You know it. I know it. It’s a good deal.” Tate helped me draft it, which meant I was bulletproof and could screw Bruce six ways from Sunday if anything went wrong. Of course, I didn’t expect it to. Bruce had an entire floor to house his litigation team. But I was also sure they were all nepo hires from his small town, so who knew their level of incompetence?
We joined the others at the table. Expensive liquor, cocktails, and food began to flow to our corner of the room steadily. Lobster rolls, Maine crab cakes, shrimp alfredo, and stuffed lobster butter croissant. I sat next to Dylan and put my hand in her lap, giving her a squeeze. Truth was keeping busy these past couple days hadn’t helped with pushing her out of my mind.
“What’s the estimated annual profit margin on App-date?” Tate buttered a bread roll. He was playing this all out for me. He already knew all the deets.
“We’re looking at twenty billion revenue the first year,” I said. “Eight less than TikTok in 2023. Not too shabby for a so-called niche.”
“Really? People want a fake relationship that much?” Jolene sounded doubtful as she sipped her Bloody Mary.
“You’d be surprised.” My hand traveled up Dylan’s thigh, my tone cool and calculated. “It’s not the niche market you think it is. People need dates for weddings, parties, work events. People want to find other like-minded individuals to go on vacation with. Have deep, philosophical conversations that delve deeper than what apps like Tinder and Bumble offer. The sexiest thing about my app is that it isn’t about sex. It forces the participants to actually get to know each other. I think it’ll breed more married couples than all the dating apps combined,” I said confidently, knowing it was what she wanted to hear.
Bruce nodded absentmindedly. “I can see it. It’s like forcing people to go on real dates without the expectation to sleep together afterward.”
“Exactly,” I said.
“Can’t remember the last time I heard about an app predicted to have a revenue of more than three billion in its first year,” Tate commented dryly, taking a sip of his whiskey.
Up close, I recognized the woman on his arm. A Netflix actress who had a smash hit playing a vampire Cleopatra.