Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“Oh, come on. We’ve never even hooked up.”
I would never touch Franklin. Not like that. The kid thought BDSM stood for Bad Decisions and Spending Money.
“People don’t know that.” I slung my wrist over the steering wheel, eyes dead on the road. “For all they know, you were a conquest. I chased you hard enough.”
“And then I said yes.” She clicked her small mirror shut, throwing her hands in the air with a frustrated groan. “And you said no. Why is that?”
“Spared you the broken heart.”
Frankie snorted. “Please. If one of us were to get their heart broken, it would be you.”
Impossible, of course. My heart was all the way across the pond, in Europe, with a girl I hadn’t seen since I was nineteen. Time didn’t dull that fact. Neither did the stream of women who came in and out of my bedroom along the years.
But Franklin Townsend – the young, doe-eyed sister of Romeo’s wife – would never be on the menu for me. Chasing her benefitted me for the same reason pretending to be a dumbass did – it threw people off my scent. It made them believe I was a shallow, perverted creature of zero scruples. The oldest trick in the book.
“Come on, Ollie. You strung me along. The least you can do is be my date for one night.” She sprawled in her seat, eyeing me with a pout, very clearly unused to rejection. “You can dump me publicly afterwards.” She winked. “I’ve always wanted my name on a Times Square billboard.”
Frankie, like her sister Dallas, was certifiably unhinged. It didn’t take a fortune teller to guess that Franklin Townsend was destined to end up accidentally burning a zip code or two. In the last year alone, Dallas had to quietly release her younger sister on bail for indecent exposure, possession of weed in a holy place (church), and (allegedly accidental) theft of a box of dildos, which she’d repainted and sold on Etsy as jewelry bars. Frankie was unintentionally hilarious and as high maintenance as a five-star hotel. She was also mentally five and chronologically twenty. Too young to be taken seriously.
I changed lanes, inwardly cursing the traffic. “The answer is still no.”
“How has no one realized what a buzzkill you are?”
Because I’m a master at secrets.
When Frankie had asked me for a ride to The Grand Regent, I couldn’t refuse. First, because my family owned the hotel. One of many in our chain of six-thousand-plus properties across the world. Since I couldn’t stop the walking disaster that was Franklin Townsend from entering my hotel without suffering Romeo’s wrath, it would be negligent of me to not personally escort her there and ensure she didn’t burn down a sauna or two.
And secondly, because I’d just announced in our group chat that I was headed there to golf. Turning her down would be rude. I also enjoyed the welcome side effect of pissing Romeo and Dallas off by pretending that spending time with the southern bombshell delighted me. They treated her like one would a delicate flower without realizing she devoured more victims than a Venus Flytrap.
“What brings you to The Grand Regent today, anyway?” I drawled, trying to avert the conversation from the date Frankie wanted.
By the time we made it off Dark Prince Road, Rom and Dal must’ve already imagined me ravaging her in five different ways. In reality, I had a team management meeting in half an hour. I did all the hiring and firing at our flagship branch in the DMV. I liked to have my finger on the pulse.
“I’m meeting a Tinder date in the presidential suite.” Frankie curled a lock of hair around her finger. “He’s married and thirty years older, so we have to do it somewhere discreet.”
“Put a towel over the linens, please. Those sheets are seamless silk.”
“He wants to do it in the shower.”
“Wear some slippers, then. I don’t want any lawsuits.”
“Christ.” She threw her head back and laughed. “You really don’t give a shit about me hooking up with other people, do you?”
“What you do with your time and your body is none of my business. Radical sentiment, I know.”
She tilted her head, frowning at me. “I thought you wanted to hook up with me.”
Everyone did. I made a whole stink about hitting on Frankie the minute I caught her shoving miniature bottles of vodka into her clutch at a debutante ball years ago.
“Truth is, I did it mostly to piss Romeo and Zach off.” I put a hand to my heart. “As lovely as you are – and make no mistake, you are one of the loveliest creatures to grace this godforsaken planet – even I have limits. Besides …” I shot her a quick glance. “You’re not really headed for a hookup. Tell me what you’re up to. And assure me that it will not ruin next year’s disaster insurance policy.”