Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
And I had to go to a bar that isn’t hers. I’m already stealing so much of her life, I have to be careful what I take.
I’ve never had to chase a woman, let alone pick her up and drop her off to work before. This is all very strange and new to me.
“Till the contract is done. Then I’ll let it play out as it will.”
He rubs his hand over his jaw. “And you don’t care if you hurt her?” he asks me.
“She’s tougher than I thought. She’ll be fine.”
“Will you, though?” he asks. “You said you thought you were falling in love with Serena, and now what? You just… moved on?”
He doesn’t know that every time I fucked Serena, I saw a redhead with green colored eyes staring back at me, smiling that smile as I took her.
Serena was a change, and maybe if I’d tried hard enough, I could have loved her. Maybe. But I don’t, and there’s no changing that.
“Moving on.”
“You don’t have to. You could make this real. Try with Carla. You might find you like her more than just a bed mate.”
“Don’t go getting all sentimental on me now, Barry, just because you have goo-goo eyes for her friend.” He smiles, not even trying to deny it.
“What I don’t get, is why wait so long?” he asks. “You took the video a year ago. What made you not use it then and go back to Serena?”
“I liked her and felt bad.” I shrug. “But then I realized, in the game of business all cards must be dealt. I have to deal mine to get what I want.”
“I just hope you know what you’re doing and you don’t fall too hard for her, because if she finds out why you really wanted her to sign that contract, she will hate you and there’s no turning back from that.”
“She will find out… in a year. Until then…”
I drink what’s left of my glass and leave.
It’s time to pick up my fiancée.
16
Carla
Whiskey’s waiting when I finish. I didn’t expect him to be, but I’m a little relieved when I see him. He’s leaning against his car, his suit jacket undone, and just a touch of chest showing.
“That man could bounce a quarter off that chest,” Bianca whispers next to me.
“Bianca, this is Corton.” Whiskey’s eyes flash to me when I say his name. “My fiancé.” Then I feel Bianca’s eyes on me. I work with her every day and I haven’t told her I was dating anyone, let alone engaged.
“You’re engaged?” she asks, shocked.
“Yep,” is all I can manage in reply.
“To him?” she asks, pointing.
“To me. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Whiskey offers her his hand.
“I mean, I can see why you’d want to strap that down. But wow, Carla. That’s fast.” Whiskey watches me as I cringe.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I wave to her and she just walks off.
“You work together?”
“Yes, for quite some time.”
Whiskey opens the car door, letting me in. “Is she invited to the wedding?” he asks. Leaning down to look at me, his eyes grip mine, and it takes so much to look away from him. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I want to do is play games with Whiskey. Clearly, he wins them, the sneaky bastard.
“I’m not planning it, just so you know,” I tell him.
“I know. I already have it planned. Luckily for you.” He shuts the door. “Do you want to go out? Make this real?”
“None of this is real, Whiskey. All this is some trumped-up fantasy of yours. For God knows what and why. I have a life and I don’t want to play in yours.” I’m tired, and fed up with his bullshit.
Whiskey takes off quickly, the wheels skidding out, his hands squeezing the steering wheel so tight they turn white. “I’ve been trying, you know, to make this smooth. To make this not be so bad for you. But you make it real fucking hard, Carla.”
His words shock me.
“Me? Make it hard? Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t realize it was you getting blackmailed and forced to marry someone you don’t love and only fucked once.” My voice is full of sarcasm.
“And I’ve tried to make it easier, tried to make it so when it’s over, we won’t have any ties. But you’re making it very fucking hard.”
“Fuck you.”
“You say that a lot to me. Is that perhaps something you want to be doing? Fucking me?”
“No. I’ve made that mistake already,” I retort.
He slams on the brakes, his hand coming out to stop me from jolting too far forward. Then he turns in his seat. “You’re just a spoiled little rich girl,” he says, as a horn honks behind us. He doesn’t move.
I lean in closer. “Yes. Yes I am.”
“Fucking little rich girl.”
“Who you fucked,” I say, my head dropping to the side.