Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“I didn’t know what you like, so I got a bunch of everything.” She peeks at me over her shoulder. She’s not wearing a lick of make-up, but her cheeks have a rosy blush over her tanned-brown skin. Her hair is down today as well, long and straight, like she ironed all the wrinkles out. “I hope you like Brazilian food.”
“Well, I am from Brazil, so…”
She smiles. “Have you ever had a hamburger here?”
“What?” I kinda laugh the word out. She’s so strange.
“A hamburger?”
“Yes. I’ve had hamburgers.”
“I am dying for a hamburger. But eating hamburgers in Rio is like eating tacos in London.”
“I’ll have to take your word on that. Haven’t made it to London yet. Is that where you live?”
“Where I live?” She taps her chin with a manicured fingertip, pretending to think about this. “No. Not really. Naturally, we have that castle in Scotland.”
The laugh comes out of me automatically. “Naturally.”
“But I live… wherever. I don’t really call any place home. Certainly not that castle in Scotland. So… here’s as good a place as any.” She narrows her eyes at me, but it’s not done in frustration or suspicion. It’s playful, I can tell. “Shall we eat? Grab a plate. I’m so hungry.”
I walk over to her and grab a paper plate. “Why are you only eating once a day? Even the kids on the Rock ate twice.”
“Oh, you know. Diet fads.” She sighs. “I’ve been on a diet my whole life. It’s just something I do.”
“You don’t look like you need to diet to me.”
“That’s because I diet, Maart.”
“I like you, Beth.”
“I like you too, Lance.” She bats her eyes at me. “Can I call you Lance?”
I chuckle. “I don’t care.”
Her plate is full and she smiles at me, cheekily, as she passes me with a swish of her dress. “Join me at the plastic dining table when you’re done, please. I have news.”
My stomach tightens a little when she says that and I blow out a breath. That’s why I’m here. To get news of Irina. And Beth has some.
There is a lot of food. I grab some meat pasties, some cheese pies, and some rice croquettes and take it all over to where Beth is sitting at a cheap plastic patio table. She’s waiting for me, her food untouched, and she’s smiling.
“You must have good news.” I sit down across from her in the hard, uncomfortable chair. “You’re smiling like an idiot.”
She wants to laugh, but holds it in. “I found her.”
“Where is she?”
“Miami. Specifically, South Beach. A nice area.” She looks out over her terrace railing. “Kinda like this place, actually.”
“Do you have a house there?”
“No. But I’m pretty sure there’s one in West Palm Beach.”
“Pretty sure?” I take a bite of cheese pie, then moan a little. “Fuck, this is good.”
“I own the restaurant, so thank you. I’ll tell the chef. And I haven’t had a chance to see all the houses yet since my father died. But I’m fairly certain that while I was perusing the will with the lawyers, I saw West Palm Beach in the inventory.”
“Who the hell was your father?”
“Sir Brendon Scott.”
“Never heard of him.”
“Nah. He wasn’t that kind of billionaire. A silent partner.”
“Oh.” I nod. “I see. So you grew up in it?”
“The sickness? Yeah. I did.”
I stop eating and just stare at her for a moment. I have a million questions, but I can’t seem to sort through them at the moment.
“I’ll tell you that story, if you want. But first, Irina. She’s living in a condo, which she bought herself, by the way—”
“She bought a condo? How the hell did she buy a condo?”
“She appears to be very resourceful. But I’m not quite sure about that. I didn’t get this info from the fighters. I was told she was there in South Beach, so I ran her name—she’s still using van Breda, by the way—and found the deed. She’s owned it for over two years now.”
I put my fork down. “Where the hell did she get all that money?”
“Well, it is a closet of a condo. So it was rather cheap. But still, it was over two hundred thousand dollars.”
“She’s fighting.” And as soon as the words come out of my mouth, I know it’s true. “She’s fuckin’ fighting.”
“Maybe. Don’t jump to conclusions.”
I just stare at Beth. “What do you mean? How the hell else is she gonna make that kind of money? She doesn’t have any skills.”
Beth huffs and places her fork daintily down on her plate, staring at me.
“What?” I ask her. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
“So let me get this straight, Lance.” I crack a smile, even though she’s being totally serious. “You trained this girl to fight like a champion. Didn’t teach her any other skills. And then you told her she wasn’t allowed to fight. Is that the gist of it?”