Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I hold in a smile. “You don’t need to witness anything. The client would be thrilled if you showed up with me. They’d love to meet you.”
Her nose scrunches. “Do they follow me on social media?”
It’s a solid assumption since her follower list is growing by the minute. “Yes. They follow you. They’re a big fan.”
“How do you know that?”
“Your name came up in conversation,” I tell her because it’s the truth before I spit out a lie, “They mentioned Dominick, and if I happened to know you, and I…”
“Said you knew me,” she finishes my sentence. “If they follow my work that closely, you’d think they’d seek out my brother for financial advice instead of you.”
“Ouch?” I laugh. “Was that an insult?”
A smile slides over her lips. “An observation.”
“An observation,” I repeat, mesmerized by her smile.
“Daniel,” she says my name before she drops her gaze to the floor. “I think I just need to go get the annulment. It’s what we both want, right?”
It’s not what I fucking want. At least, I don’t think it is. I don’t know anymore.
I pat the front pocket of my jeans so I can feel the outline of my wedding band. “One favor, Gina. Take a drive with me on Saturday for this meeting, and book the flight for Sunday. That’s all I’m asking.”
“A drive where?”
“Connecticut,” I say. “We’ll be back before dinner. Meeting you would make their day. Hell, it would make their entire year. They’ve had a lot going on recently, and I know this would mean a lot to them.”
She weighs my words carefully. “All right. I’ll go with you, and then to Vegas on Sunday. I’ll get the annulment moving forward so we can put this behind us.”
I nod in agreement before she brushes past me and disappears down the hallway.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Gina
“You want me to get in that?”
Daniel laughs. It’s a low, throaty sound that fills the air around us. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Lawton?”
I shoot him a look. “Calvetti.”
He nods. “Right.”
“Is it even safe?” I step back from the curb. “Do you have a driver’s license?”
Still chuckling, he shakes his head as he steps closer to me. “My dad bought this car as a project for the two of us when I was a kid. I never got my hands on it because I didn’t make the time. He did. He restored it completely, Gina. It may have been driven off a car lot in the seventies, but it’s like new.”
My gaze slides over the sleek red convertible. “It’s beautiful in a way.”
“It is,” he agrees with a curt nod. “As for whether I have a driver’s license, who do you think drove your brother to get his driver’s license?”
I turn to face him. “You did?”
“You know it.” He tugs on the front of the white button-down shirt he’s wearing. It may be a warm and sunny Saturday morning, but Daniel is wearing charcoal gray pants and shoes I know were imported from Italy. He looks every inch the casual businessman, right down to the top two buttons that are undone on his shirt.
I dressed for comfort, so I paired jeans with a black and white blouse. They are both pieces I chose and paid for myself years ago. Since I have no commitments to sponsors today, I’m wearing an outfit that I love.
“Where have you been hiding this car?” I step closer to it, marveling at how pristine it is, right down to the white leather seats. “You don’t have an apartment in New York, so are you paying for a parking spot?”
“No,” he answers succinctly.
He doesn’t add any other details, so I press for more. “Were you parking it in someone else’s spot?”
“Like who?” he asks the question with a smirk.
“A friend,” I say, even though I’m wondering if one of his exes is doing him a favor by storing the car for him.
“As in a woman?” His arms cross his chest. “Is my wife jealous again? Is that what’s happening? Because truth be told, Gina, I’d rather park in your spot every day of the week than anyone else’s.”
I try to hold in a smile, but I fail. “I don’t have an available parking spot, Lawton.”
He chuckles. “We need to hit the road.”
“Where did you keep it?” I ask just as he’s about to grab the passenger door handle. “Why didn’t you have it transported to California when you moved there? It’s the perfect car for Los Angeles, isn’t it?”
His hand leaps from the handle to my forearm. He circles it gently with his fingers. “It’s been in my uncle’s garage in Queens since my dad died. I couldn’t bring myself to look at it because of the missed opportunity, but today felt like the right time to be brave and jump in the driver’s seat.”