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)
The hisses and shushes lulled me to sleep, inviting me to the same nightmare.
Chapter Forty-Six
Oliver
Age Nineteen.
Entire studies could be done on how my body managed to function in New York while my mind remained thousands of miles away in Europe with Briar Rose.
She’d made it safely to Geneva with few bumps along the way. Namely – traveling in a hotel bathrobe and fending off the asshole taxi driver who tried to hit on her.
All in all, the guilt for leaving her in Paris to fend for herself sickened me.
On the flip side, her parents ended up returning to Geneva. A last-minute change of plans with the senator. At least Cuddlebug wasn’t alone, even though we could all agree a prolific serial killer itching for his next victim would make better company.
Meanwhile, I’d made it to the lake house before morning, which meant I’d only taken one day off in Europe. A pit stop, really. Still, Dad managed to be pissy about it.
I pretended to grovel, spending the next two weeks making carpet noises, writing shit down on spreadsheets, and chasing around Dad, his COO, and the board as they showed me and Seb the ropes to company management.
Every day, I counted down the minutes until I reunited with Cuddlebug.
Between the countdown, I crunched numbers, ran customer service simulations, and completed Dad’s sixteen-page exam. I passed. Barely. Seb got an A+.
Fucker.
On our last day at the lake house in Savannah, Dad decided he’d ridden our asses hard enough and gave us a day off.
“You’ve shown real commitment to the business and extraordinary knowledge in hospitality and hotel management.” He watched me and Seb file into his home office with a blank expression. “You deserve a little break.”
I perked up. “A break, as in … Europe trip?”
Dad rapped his knuckles on the mahogany desk. “A break, as in: go play in the backyard.”
Seb frowned. “We’re not five.”
“All the same, I will not reward you every time you meet my expectations.” Dad parted a folder, already over the conversation. “You must exceed it to gain prizes. Grill a few steaks and drink a beer or two while I tend to my business.”
Seb’s lips pulled at the corner as he teased me, “Womp, womp.”
Dad shrugged. “You can use the old pontoon, provided you can push it offshore and get it to work.”
“What a day to be alive,” Seb muttered.
“Chop, chop.” Dad clapped his hands. “Some of us have work to do.”
Sebastian and I sped out of Dad’s office before he changed his mind, slamming the door shut behind us. On the other side of the heavy oak, we exchanged high fives, matching fat grins pasted on our faces.
“Holy shit. An entire day off.” Seb wiggled his brows. “Someone’s in a good mood.”
Our father loved us. Objectively speaking, he was fair, involved, and passionate about his family. But he was strict, too. Of course, Mom always said that rules are love wrapped in caution.
Seb slapped my shoulder, beelining into the backyard with me. “What do you wanna do, lover boy?”
My girlfriend. I want to do my girlfriend. Can you make that happen?
I scratched my chin. “I mean, we could take the pontoon to the other side of the lake. There’s a barbecue house there, antique shops, touristy shit.”
“Antique stores?” Seb clutched invisible pearls around his neck and gasped, his expression going flat. “Know your audience, bro.”
“Sorry, Seb. Brothels aren’t legal in this state.”
“Like I would ever need to pay to get laid.” He swiveled toward me, walking backwards on the dock as he gestured toward his face. “Look at me.”
“Do I have to?”
“I’m a fucking god.”
“Did you have an eight ball of cocaine for breakfast?”
He grinned. “Come on. Let’s drive downtown and get laid.”
“If we drive downtown, you’ll get laid, and I’ll have to sit in the lobby of a crappy motel, waiting for you to wash your dick in a kitchenette sink because I’m your ride home.”
Experience proved me right.
Sebastian chuckled. “Are Zach and Rom around this summer?”
I shook my head. “Nah. They have their own shit going on.”
We climbed onto the pontoon, which someone had parked close to Dad’s mini yacht. While it didn’t hold a candle to its twenty-million-dollar neighbor, it was still a nice ride, all silver and black vinyl, state-of-the-art stereos, and docking lights. It even had a storable dinette table.
With all the work we’d done, Seb and I hadn’t done anything fun together in ages. I was glad to spend some time with my little brother. Seb had managed to make things unnecessarily tense during our internship, constantly trying to one-up me when I literally couldn’t give two shits.
In fact, I’d only returned because I knew von Bismarck money would make starting a family with Briar Rose that much easier.
People who didn’t know Seb considered me whip smart and elegant with a knack for numbers. The second they met him, they recategorized me as the dumb brother. After all, he was smarter, more handsome, and more ambitious. Ruthless in his pursuit for whatever he set his eyes on.