Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Right. Landon is her boyfriend’s actual name. “Listen, Janie, I’m pretty beat after the flight. Can we catch up later?”
“Of course,” she chirps. “See you at dinner.”
Maybe. If Emma and Marcus aren’t there, I won’t be either.
I claim my room, which turns out to have a glorious ocean view and is bigger than my Manhattan apartment.
Watching the waves break against the golden sand, I call Emma to find out about dinner. Turns out, she and Marcus are visiting her grandparents and won’t make it to the mansion until late.
That settles it. I’m going to order in some food. But first, I need to plan a proper vacation activity for after the wedding—because I told Mr. Boss the festivities would last four days, since I haven’t had an actual holiday in ages.
The question is, what do I do with my free time?
It’s February, so the ocean is going to be too cold for my liking despite the heatwave forecasted for the next couple of days. Nor am I into theme parks, especially if it’s going to be in the upper 80s, as predicted. Though something nature-y might be nice, something unique to Florida.
I end up settling on Swamp Sparkle Safari, which is an overnight airboat tour that sounds amazing. According to their spiel, the owner takes you to a remote swamp location that only he knows about, and you get to experience bioluminescence and encounter gators cavorting with turtles, along with a firefly light show that accompanies a frog serenade.
“I’m sold,” I tell the owner, Bubba, who picks up the phone when I call. “Book me for the day after tomorrow.”
“You’re not going to regret this,” he says in a charming Southern accent. “The cabin where you’ll be staying at just got renovated.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”
I’m glad I planned for this. Even if I weren’t desperate for a vacation, I’ll need the relaxation after the hard work of being civil to Ashton.
Vacation plans arranged, I order Mexican takeout and deal with the numerous emails and texts from Tierre that piled up while I was offline.
Once my inbox is blissfully empty, I open Adobe Illustrator and stare at the screen, hoping for a visit from the design inspiration fairy—whom I picture looking like a hybrid between Tinkerbell and Tierre.
I feel like I might be on the verge of an idea, but then the chiming of the doorbell interrupts my musings and the inspiration vanishes. Annoyed, I get up and go to the front door to get my food.
“Here are your orders,” the delivery guy says and gives me two bags, one heavier than the other.
“Orders, as in plural?”
“One of those is mine,” Ashton says from behind me. “The one with shrimp tacos.”
“Good choice.” The guy points at the heavier of the two bags. “That would be that one.”
Damn it. Now I want shrimp tacos. Mine are grilled steak and pork.
“Why are you ordering takeout?” I demand as soon as the delivery guy leaves.
“Because I figured you’d want to dine with your friend Janie.”
I know this might be hypocritical given that I’m avoiding him, but the idea that he’s avoiding me pisses me off.
“Fine. I guess I will join Janie and the rest of them.”
“Go ahead,” he says with infuriating magnanimousness. “I only know two people at that table, Geoffrey and Jarrod, and I’m not that close to either.”
The names sound familiar.
Ah, right, one of them is Marcus’s CIO and the other is his butler—not sure which is which.
“Have fun,” he says, then turns around and leaves.
I locate the dining room and add my tacos to the pile of food already on the table.
Unlike Tierre, I don’t believe in juju or the evil eye, but if I did, I’d be positive Ashton’s “have fun” cursed this dinner because it turns out to be boring, awkward, and tedious, with Mr. Suck-Up telling us endless stories about Goldman Sachs, the investment bank where he works.
On the bright side, the stories manage to make me so drowsy I fall asleep as soon as I get to my room.
Unfortunately, the curse continues.
I’m bombarded by a variety of wet dreams, all of which feature Ashton.
Chapter 17
Kendall
A knock on the door wakes me just as I’m sucking on Ashton’s neck like a horny Nosferatu.
Turns out, Marcus hired a makeup artist for the bridal party. The woman is good too, as skilled as the pros we have at our shoots in New York. And she’s thoughtful. She brings me breakfast and has me eat it as she works on my nails.
Freshly primped and preened, I exit my room and head outside, where I’m relieved to see that Marcus ordered two limos for us even though we could easily squeeze into one.
“Morning,” says Janie.
“Morning,” I say, giving her a quick onceover. She makes the bridesmaid dress look good, and I tell her so, eliciting a bright smile from her.