Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“Make the arrangements with your friend. I’ve got no other options,” I muttered, feeling like I’d been boxed into a corner, and I was up against the ropes with no hope of making it to the next round.
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do to get her there.”
“Whatever it costs, but not too unreasonable. My father’s company isn’t worth that damn much,” I reminded her.
“Of course.”
The fallout with Jared must have been the reason Henry blurted out Claude Rene’s name. The fucking useless prick couldn’t keep his dick in his pants long enough to keep the company from falling apart. I was so damn tired of cleaning up after his messes. I just wanted this to be over with.
It wasn’t my company going down the drain. I had my own damn company to run. Picking up his pieces wasn’t something I wanted to do. It wasn’t my fault that Henry was on the verge of bankrupting my father.
“Sir, we’re here.”
“Thank you. Hopefully we won’t be too long.” He nodded. Elizabeth bundled up in her coat from the cold night air, but I’d been so damn heated, I rather enjoyed the icy breeze on my skin.
We were escorted in by the security guard in the lobby. I checked out the cameras in the corners and smiled.
“Mr. Rene is in there. Please wait here.”
A moment later, Rene approached us and shook our hands.
“Thank you for meeting with me.”
“Yes, my assistant told me that it was urgent. I’ve heard of your father’s company, and I’d like to say that I’m not impressed and frankly, I would not like that on my record. However, I’ve heard of your company, sir, and I’ve used your cybersecurity software and security services. So, as a favor to you, I’d be willing to shoot a brief photo shoot tomorrow morning as long as you have the model and clothes ready.”
“Thank you. What time?” I asked, hoping that it was completely doable.
“Seven a.m.”
“We will be here and ready to go. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Sure, no problem at all.” We negotiated the price and the timeframe for him to give me the images. Most of the photos would be raw because neither of us had time to waste, but seeing as I just needed two to three good images for the ads, I’d be fine.
I rushed out after shaking his hand. Staring at Elizabeth with wide eyes and out-turned hands, I said, “Did you make the call?”
“Yes. She’ll be ready. I’ll pick her up and drive her in.” I let out a heavy sigh.
“I need her ready by five to have her hair done. Also, you need to get her measurements to me ASAP because I have no time to waste to get the outfits here.” I was glad I snatched up the bottle from my father’s office. I needed it to pick out the clothes with the designer tonight. I had a long night ahead of me, and the tension in my shoulders was about to get a lot worse. “And send me her damn picture. I might have to go hunting for a model somewhere if she doesn’t meet the standards.”
She rolled her eyes and said, “You won’t need another model.”
I had my driver drop Elizabeth off at her car, and then I met with my stylist, who sent me to his counterpart who handled the female line.
An hour later my phone pinged with the photo from Elizabeth, and I was tempted to tell her to find another model. Elizabeth had been spot on—she was perfect, but that was the damn problem. Too damn perfect.
Get her to do it, I responded.
Another question popped into my head. Was she old enough for my plans for her?
Is she even old enough?
I stared at my phone for what felt like an eternity even though the minute hand only moved one notch when Elizabeth responded. She’s twenty-two.
Fuck, she was perfect. I’d just turned twenty-nine.
Gorgeous. My assistant had perfect taste, apparently.
Chapter Two
Ava
My boss and I weren’t on the best terms lately. I had one foot out the door while he was under the impression that this was the end-all, be-all for me. I’d just finished my degree in creative writing and had plans that didn’t include working a fifty-hour-a-week receptionist job that I didn’t enjoy.
My passion was writing, and Mr. Hernandez thought it should be waiting for the phone to ring while keeping myself busy. I wasn’t sure with what, though. Just because he was busy as hell didn’t mean I was. If he delegated his work, then maybe he wouldn’t be fucking drowning. Either way, it wasn’t my damn problem because I had goals and dreams that didn’t involve waiting for the phone to ring.
It wasn’t like the damn phone rang anyway. I wondered if this job was a front for something. Mr. Hernandez always wore a three-piece suit to this less-than-professional building. I didn’t say anything, but the man didn’t scream tow-truck-driver owner. No, the man screamed mob boss. Still, I didn’t ask questions because I got paid and I filed paperwork that had been delivered to me. All that mattered was what I did when I got home, and that was writing.