Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 88228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Our relationship is still pretty new,” I say.
“He brought you to Bobby’s for dinner. According to Bobby, Braden almost never brings a woman home.”
I resist the urge to lift my eyebrows, but I can’t deny her words make me a little giddy. “Oh?”
“Yeah, that’s what Bobby says. I believe his exact words were, ‘He seems serious about this one.’”
“Like I said, our relationship is still pretty new.”
“I’d grab on to him and never let go if I were you.” She smiles coyly. “I’m just sorry you saw him first.”
“Don’t you work at his office?”
She nods. “It’s been a fabulous opportunity.”
“Then you probably saw him first,” I can’t help saying.
“A few times,” she admits, “but we never formally met, and he never gave me the time of day. Bobby says he doesn’t get involved with people at the office.”
“But Bobby does, apparently.”
“Apparently.” She takes a sip of her water. “Where is the waiter with our wine?”
“Tell me about you and Bobby,” I say.
She smiles. “Like I said. He’s a tiger. In the boardroom and in the bedroom. You wouldn’t believe what he’s into.”
Yeah? Try me. I don’t say it, though. No way am I going to talk about what Braden and I do in the bedroom with a virtual stranger, NDA or not.
“He has the stamina of a guy half his age,” she continues. “And his body… Dreamy. The best body I’ve ever been with, and most of my dates have been with significantly younger men.”
Most? Interesting, but not surprising, given what Ben seemed to think of Kathy. “Yeah, he seems to stay in shape.”
“A lot of it’s in his DNA,” Kathy says. “I mean, look at his two sons. But he works out almost every morning.”
Does Braden work out? Funny that I don’t know the answer to that question. Other than his racquetball date, he’s never mentioned exercise. He must, to maintain that perfect physique. I’ve let this man tie me up and take control of me, yet I have no idea if he works out.
“Skye?”
“Yeah?”
“You seemed to zone out there for a minute. Oh! Good. Here comes our wine.”
Our server sets the two glasses of Bordeaux in front of us. “Your entrees will be out in a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” Kathy says. She picks up her glass. “To us.”
“To us?”
“Yeah. A new friendship.”
I pick up my glass and clink it to hers. This is a new friendship? She’s not just here because she wanted the selfie? Perhaps I misjudged Kathy. Maybe she truly has feelings for Braden’s father.
If that’s the case, should I tell her that he’s just using her? At least according to Ben?
I hold back a sigh. This is all so none of my business.
I smile. “To a new friendship.”
My smile wavers and my stomach drops.
A maître d’ leads two women through the restaurant, and my gaze meets one of theirs.
It’s Tessa.
Chapter Forty-Two
Tessa raises an eyebrow at me.
I smile weakly.
Tessa and Betsy sit down at a table behind me, thank God, so I don’t have to see them.
I’m the shittiest BFF ever. I turned down Tessa’s invite, and here I am sitting with a woman she doesn’t recognize. It could be business, of course. That’s what I’ll tell Tessa if she asks.
But that’s a lie.
The truth is that I just didn’t want to talk to Tessa and Betsy, and not because I can’t tell them about my trip to New York.
That bad feeling I had after I turned Tessa down at lunch?
It’s back with a vengeance.
“Something wrong?” Kathy asks.
I smile at her. Again, weakly. “No. Why do you ask?”
“You got a weird look on your face.”
“I’m fine.”
Except I’m not. I look at my phone, which I’ve silenced to avoid the tons of notifications from my Instagram posts. Kathy and I are front and center. Tessa would have seen the post anyway.
Should I go over and explain this to her?
If I do, what do I say?
Who the hell am I?
Kathy chatters the rest of the way through dinner.
I can’t tell you a word of what she says.
…
At five minutes until ten, I text Braden.
I’m in the lobby of your building.
A few minutes later, the doors to his private elevator glide open, and Christopher emerges.
I walk toward him, but he gestures for me to stay put. I widen my eyes.
“Mr. Black asked me to take you somewhere,” he says.
“Where?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Christopher, I can’t just go somewhere without knowing where I’m going.”
Christopher chuckles. “He expected you to say something like that.”
I roll my eyes. Perfect. Braden knows me better than I know myself, which ironically isn’t that surprising.
I look down at my dressy jeans and blouse. “What if I’m not dressed appropriately?”
“You’re dressed fine. Come with me.”
I relent and let Christopher lead me to the Mercedes in the garage. Before we leave, he hands me a piece of black silk. “Put this around your eyes.”