Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Eva elegantly rushes from the room, eager to escape the testosterone war going on right now. Clearly, she’s not as entertained as I am.
“This weekend, I’ll be unable to meet for supper as I have a previously committed to engagement,” Dad says. “One doesn’t cancel on the president.”
“Wait? Like the President of the United States?” I ask, unable to hide my shock.
Dad’s nostrils flare. “Indeed. He’s the honorary guest for the event.”
I’ve met tons of celebrities, politicians, and even a few world leaders because of Dad’s connections. But the president? That’s a new one for me. Based on Caius’s barely lifted eyebrows, it’s something new for him too.
In fact…
He has the same determined glint in his eyes as when Solomon invited him onto his yacht.
“The great Dr. Alexander Huxley,” Caius says, voice turning from gruff to charming. “I’ve heard a lot about his humanitarian work from before his days in politics. Have you read any of his books?”
Dad and Caius discuss the many books and journals Dr. Huxley wrote with shared enthusiasm, ignoring me completely as we head for the dining room. Caius shows a flash of gentlemanly attention my way long enough to pull my chair out before sliding back into conversation with my father. Now that they mention it, I clearly remember seeing many of Dr. Huxley’s books in Caius’s office. He had a whole slew of them.
Why didn’t I read some of those books when I’d stumbled on them?
I’m suddenly wishing I’d have taken my phone back from Caius. I wouldn’t mind doing a deep dive on our president right about now. If Dad and Caius both care about the subject, I feel as if I should be well-versed as well so I can survive in either of their worlds. Not that Dad would ever allow for me to scroll my phone at the dinner table.
God, I really miss college. Life was simpler before I met Megan and everything got monumentally screwed up. I had freedom from the chains of my real life and had yet been dragged into the captivity of the Crownes.
Eva and Rosie are near the doorway, discussing wine options to go with dinner. I could excuse myself and do a quick hunt in my bedroom so long as they didn’t turn it into a workout room or something.
“Excuse me,” I say quickly. “I need to use the restroom. Be right back.”
Neither man spares me a glance. I hurry out of the dining room and then down the hall to my bedroom. Relief floods through me when I push through the door and see everything exactly as I’d left it. Well, not exactly since I took anything that meant something to me off to college, but my furniture, decorations, and even some clothes remain. Most importantly, my desk and computer are right where I left them.
The closet sits ajar and I purposefully ignore the call of it. Even after the nightmares stopped, I still found comfort in that closet. In fact, I cried for a bit in that very closet days before I was set to leave for California. I’d been nervous and afraid of the unknown. The closet was just…safe.
I make it to my desk and after a little wiggling of the mouse, the screen comes to life. After signing in, I whip open the internet browser. I’m tempted to check my emails—the real inbox and not the spoof one they put on my phone—but decide this takes precedence.
Finding information on Dr. Huxley isn’t difficult. He’s the president, after all. But I’m not concerned with his biography or his achievements. I want to know how he’s connected to both my father and the Crownes. Caius, from all appearances, seems to be a fan, not a friend. However, he’s also a liar. He could be acting dumb, trying to get my father to spill information. Or is he truly interested in the man?
It’s not difficult to find my father’s connection to him. Dad is pretty much the king of television and news media. A politician like Dr. Huxley would be on the news often. Their circles would easily run together. In fact, Dad’s probably attended many events over his lifetime where Dr. Huxley was also in attendance.
But the Crownes?
How do the men behind the Crowne Unity Project tie in with the President of the United States?
My search doesn’t yield anything telling right away. I’ll have to continue the search later. I’m about to close out the search window when I feel a presence looming behind me.
The closet.
First instinct is to scramble over there.
With a barely suppressed mewl, I spin in my chair, eyes on the ajar closet door. I nearly trip over my feet in my effort to rush over to it. Before I make it, a large form stops me and grabs me by the biceps. I’m jerked a few times, hard and insistent, until I snap out of the fear clawing at me from the inside out.