Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
He also played professional football. The “middle” Mercier brother, Caelan, was just as successful in his own way—he owned a very popular tattoo shop that drew even the rich and famous.
Alicia pointed a spatula at Harri. “Drey is too old for you.”
Our baby sister rolled her eyes. “You say that about every guy I call attractive. You’ve been doing it since I hit puberty. I’m now twenty-two, so it’s really time you got past the whole trying to keep me away from boys thing. Also, Drey is like, what, twenty-seven?”
“Something like that,” I replied.
“Too old for you,” Alicia reiterated.
“The same age gap exists between Addie and Dax.”
“That’s different,” said Alicia.
“How?” challenged Harri.
“It just is. Don’t question my wisdom.”
Harri flicked a hand. “Whatever.” She refocused on me. “Will it be weird for you to work for Dax? I mean, casually chatting to him is one thing. Having him for a client is another.”
“I can manage it fine.” I sipped my drink. “I’m just not looking forward to my body melting into a pile of goo for him again.” But it would happen.
Harri grinned. “Do you ever wonder if you guys would have pursued something more if you hadn’t gone off to college?”
I felt my forehead crease. “No, never. We have different things in mind for our future. He doesn’t want kids.” Which I hadn’t realized until after I’d suggested we make a pact to be the other’s fallback marriage partner. Not that either of us had taken the pact seriously—we’d laughed even as we’d shaken on it.
Another chime came from Alicia’s phone. A sound she pointedly ignored, her hand flexing around the handle of the spatula.
Arching a questioning brow at Harri, I subtly tipped my chin toward the phone. She only shrugged.
Just then, Gypsy sprung onto the island directly in front of her and butted her hand, all feline demand.
Harri smiled. “Hey, pretty girl.” She petted the cat, who arched into every stroke of her hand and began purring like crazy. Animals loved Harri as much as she did them. As if they were drawn to her or her energy or whatever.
I adored animals as much as the next person, but Harri … it was almost as if she had an infinity for them. Our dad had thought she might one day become a vet, but she’d said she wouldn’t be able to deal with seeing them injured or abused—she had a soft heart. She wasn’t a softie, though. She had a very calm and quiet alpha presence, which I thought was why dogs in particular responded to her so well and were easy for her to train.
Alicia’s phone beeped again.
Harri lifted her glass. “Who keeps texting you?”
Alicia tossed her a frown. “Don’t be so nosy.”
“I’m your little sister. It’s my job to pry like that.”
Alicia snorted, the crease of her brow smoothing out.
Gently pushing Gypsy’s tail away from her face, Harri asked, “Is it Dario?”
Every muscle in Alicia’s body tensed. “We’re not talking about him.”
“At least tell us one thing: Are you guys just having a bad fight, or are you over for good?”
“Over for good.”
I sipped more of my wine. “So you’re not going back to New York?”
“No. I’m staying in Redwater. I’ll get my own place soon,” Alicia assured me.
I waved that away. “There’s no rush. You know that.”
The set of her shoulders lost their tension. “I do. Thank you.”
Harri drank some of her wine and then put down her glass. “I don’t know why you won’t just tell us what happened. I don’t keep secrets from you.”
Alicia snorted. “Yes, you do.”
“Okay, fine, I do. But I don’t see why that has to be relevant.”
“That’s because you’re spoiled.”
Harri pouted. “Harsh.”
“True.”
“You’re just being defensive because you don’t want to talk about Dario.”
“Of course I am. Deal with it.”
The timer on the cooker began to beep.
Switching it off, Alicia declared, “Food’s ready. I propose we eat in silence.”
Harri winged up a brow, her lips quirking. “So you don’t want me to question you about Dario some more?”
“Don’t be a brat to me all your life, Harri.”
“Why not? It’s way too entertaining to stop.”
∞∞∞
“Good morning,” I said to a well-groomed male seated behind a very modern desk the following day. “My name is Addison Davenport. I have an appointment with Mr. Mercier.” Which my central nervous system was handling perfectly well.
Oh, what a lie.
The PA stood with a smile and offered his hand. “Hello, Miss Davenport, I’m Benjamin.” He gave my hand a quick shake, adding, “Brie at the front desk downstairs said you were on your way up. I’ve already notified Mr. Mercier. He’s ready to see you now. If you’ll just come with me …”
I trailed behind him, my heels click-clacking on the oak flooring, my stomach in knots. He stopped outside a stylish walnut door. A gold nameplate hung there that, along with the company logo, sported the words “DAXTON MERCIER, CEO.” The PA knocked on the door, and a deep voice bid him to enter.