Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Act?” I asked. Lady? I had half a mind to tell her I was twenty-five, not forty. I was no lady. I was a woman at the most.
The doors slid open to reveal a ridiculously swanky living space. Expensive carpets were scattered over the huge polished square tiles. Windows lined every exterior wall, and the interior was a maze of artistic wall features, artwork, and sleek furniture. It looked like a billionaire’s wallet threw up in the place, but in a good way?
“Yeah,” Max said over her shoulder as she strode into the room. She flopped down on the couch and pulled a phone from beneath one of the cushions, fingers immediately flying into a blur. “You’re trying to act like you want to be friends. You already got the job, so drop it.”
“Why is your phone under the couch cushions? Are you supposed to have that?”
She sighed, blowing a bubble before answering. “Stones tried to take it away because I forgot to feed his stupid fish. But this is where I keep my extra.”
I decided to stash that for later. If I was going to make a good impression, I didn’t think coming in swinging the disciplinary bat was the right move.
I walked slowly inside, slightly worried I was going to break something worth more than my life and all my organs if Mr. Stone sold them on the black market. I perched carefully on the loveseat beside Max. “I do want to get along with you. Why can’t we?”
She stopped her furious thumb tapping just long enough to give me a suffering look. “You guys are all the same. That’s why. You want to keep your precious job, which means you have to pretend to like me. You’ll waste both our time trying to bond with me so I will tell Uncle Stones that you’re the best tutor ever. And then you’ll get to cash his checks. That’s all you want.”
“Actually, what I really want is to go on a cruise to the Bahamas. I know a lot of people bash on cruises or say they are like tourist traps, but mmm. Sometimes when I’m bored, I watch these YouTube videos of people on cruises. They show you the food they get at the buffet and the excursions and bits of the shows. And–”
“Wait,” Max said, cutting me off. “Your grand dream is to go on a stupid cruise? Seriously?”
My lips pulled down at the corners. “Well, you can call it stupid, but that’s my dream. It doesn’t really have to impress anybody else because it’s just for me. Everybody deserves to want something just for them. I mean, I bet even the great sarcastic Maxine has a secret dream.”
“It’s Max,” she said, shooting me a warning glare.
“Maybe you want to be on one of those reality cooking shows. Or maybe you want to go on a vacation to the Grand Canyon in an old, beat-up RV. But your RV breaks down in the middle of the desert and your only hope is the hot guy who can’t seem to find his shirt. The two of you go off looking for help alone and you have to cuddle for warmth at night. And just when you think the romance is about to blossom, his even hotter brother shows up in the middle of a dust storm and the two of them fight over you, and…” I trailed off when I saw the look she was giving me.
“That is really weirdly specific.”
I felt my cheeks burning. “Okay, maybe that was my dream when I was your age. Before I knew about the whole cruise thing.”
Max looked back to her phone with a straight face, but I didn’t fail to notice the corner of her mouth twitching into the faintest of smiles.
“So,” I said, pushing on. “What’s your dream?”
I thought she wasn’t going to answer at all, but she finally pursed her lips, still not looking up from her phone. “You’d just laugh.”
“Hell no I wouldn’t. I just told you how important it is to have your own dream. Your dream is the last thing on Earth I’d laugh at.”
She looked up, finally meeting my eyes.
Before she could speak, the elevator opened and Christian came storming in. “That’s enough,” he barked, not even breaking stride before reaching his own personal bar. He clinked a few bottles around and eventually poured himself something amber colored and drained it in a single gulp. “You may go, Miss Thorn. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. 5:30 A.M. sharp.”
I got up, wishing the grumpy bastard had waited like ten more seconds to barge in. I was making some actual progress with Max. “You told us to get to know each other and gave us what, two minutes?”
“You may leave, Miss Thorn.”
“Uh, okay,” I stammered. “Sorry, Max. We can pick up where we left off tomorrow.”