Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
A staffer passes, her curious gaze on us. Thankfully, it’s quiet in here otherwise.
“So, what are you doing in Miami? And up so early?” I ask.
“I’ve got a few Farm Girl things to do.” Abbi shrugs, as if it’s no big deal that the little soap company she started in her Pennsylvania barn at, like, age twelve is now taking off across the country, with enough contracts that she has a full-time staff of twenty and is opening a second production location on the West Coast. “It was too late to call you when we came in last night, but I wanted to catch you before you spoke to Henry.”
“Wolf’s here?”
“Yeah, in there.” She points to the heavy wooden doors of the Pacific, one ajar.
I frown. “I have a meeting with him?”
She collects my calloused hands in hers. “Yes, and he has a proposition for you. I know it’s going to sound crazy at first, but Ronan? Please listen to him?” She pleads with her gaze.
“Is this going to be like the last proposition he had for me? Because you know I’ll say yes.” That night in Alaska will live rent-free in my mind for the rest of my life and then haunt me in the hereafter. In fact, I could die right here and be satisfied.
Abbi bites her bottom lip to hide her grin as she tightens her grip. “No, it’s not that. But it’s a great opportunity and you would be perfect for it.” Her chest lifts with a deep inhale. “And you deserve it. So, please, say yes?” That last part is delivered softly.
“Well, now I’m intrigued.”
A throat-clearing pulls our attention to the gaping door and the billionaire luxury hotel owner looming, an annoyed look painted across his face.
“You better go. He doesn’t like to wait.” Abbi pulls me in for another hug and a kiss on my cheek.
I think it’s more about him not liking how close his wife and I are, but I can’t help myself, holding her a few extra beats before releasing her.
“Call me later!” She blows a kiss at her husband, whose annoyance breaks instantly with a warm smile for her, his eyes shifting briefly to her belly.
Abbi strolls down the hall, her sandals slapping the floor, the material of her dress swaying with her hips.
Both of us stare at her for far too long.
“Get in here before I change my mind,” Wolf barks before disappearing into the room.
“I can barely contain my excitement.” I drag my boots all the way.
32. Ronan
“This is a fucking joke, right?” I check around for hidden cameras.
Henry’s smarmy smile says he’s enjoying every second of my confusion. “If there’s one thing I would never joke about, it’s a business decision.”
“And you can’t think of a single other shoulder to tap besides mine? Really?”
The boardroom leather chair creaks as he stands, relieving it of his weight. “I can think of several.” He wanders over to peer out the window, his hands tucked into his pockets. It’s rare to not see him in a suit, but today he’s dressed down in a golf shirt and plain black pants. Still looks like he bleeds hundred-dollar bills. “So? Are you interested?”
I stall on an answer. I’m shocked is what I am. “Why me?”
Wolf pivots, setting his hands on the back of another chair, his ice-blue eyes settled on me. I can’t argue that I don’t see the appeal. The guy won every lottery at birth, including the physical genes. If my proclivities leaned that way, I’m sure I’d be eager to impress him. “Because you’ve earned my trust, and I trust very few people.”
“I’m … honored?” What else do I say? “But how does that translate into running a hotel for you?”
His chuckle is dark. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Not running the hotel. You’d report to the general manager.”
“But the grounds and facilities and admin managers would all report to me.”
“Yes.”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I consider this. “Why me?”
“You have a degree in business administration and management from Indianapolis, don’t you?”
“It’s a piece of paper.”
“Graduated near the top of your class too,” he goes on as if I hadn’t spoken. “And you were hired as a staff coordinator at Wolf there—”
“Before I begged them to move me outside because I hate being stuck behind a desk.”
“This will be nothing like that, I can promise you.” He chuckles. “I have to say, I’ve never had anyone try to talk their way out of a huge promotion.”
This isn’t a promotion. This is a joke. “I have no experience with this type of role,” I say instead.
“True,” he concedes. “But in the last year, your supervisor has been giving you more responsibility, has he not?”
“He’s definitely unloaded his job responsibilities onto me, if that’s what you mean.”
“Because I asked him to.”