Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 43239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
“And when I’m traveling by myself?”
“If you dress like I’m about to teach you to—” His eyes are way too beautiful for him to have. “—a guy will offer to handle it for you.”
I turn away from him and rush inside the sliding departure doors, desperate to kill our conversation—and to stop myself from staring into his eyes any longer.
TEN (B)
ELIZA
I’ve never flown this airline before—definitely not in first class.
Everyone in our section looks like they just stepped off the pages of a lifestyle magazine: crisp blazers, silk scarves, loafers so clean they’ve probably never touched real pavement.
I’ll never admit it, but I’m low-key glad Harrison told me to change into a dress. (It’s a dark gray Hello Kitty one, and he rolled his eyes when he saw it—but it works.)
I’m also pretty sure the flight attendants aren’t supposed to strut up and down the aisle this many times during boarding.
So far—all three of them have walked by at least five times, each flashing their best “accidentally-on-purpose” smile at Harrison.
No wonder he’s so insufferably cocky.
One of them finally places napkins on our trays.
“Hi.” She blushes at Harrison. “Can I interest either of you in a beverage before takeoff?”
“I’ll have a vodka,” I answer. “He’ll probably want your fanciest whiskey.”
“She’ll have a distilled water,” Harrison says without even looking at me. “Keep the whiskey for me, though.”
The attendant walks away, and I glare at him like he just committed a war crime.
“No alcohol until I know your tolerance level,” he says. “Besides, you need to take your first lesson sober.”
“I thought the first lesson was the dress.”
“That towel you’re wearing is not a dress.” He turns toward me fully now, body angled close, voice dipping into something smooth and inescapably seductive.
“Pretend we just met,” he says. “Introduce yourself.”
I blink. “I’m Eliza Hart.”
“No.” He tilts his head. “Again.”
“I’m Eliza Hart... sir?” I offer, dry as hell.
“Cute.” He lets out a low laugh. “But let’s try adding something about yourself.”
“Okay.” I pause. “I’m Eliza Hart, and I run a farm resort with my older brother.”
“Can you say it without sounding like you’re confessing to a felony?”
“Fine.” I try it again, repeating my exact same words. My voice is a lot softer this time, but he shakes his head.
“Say it like this.” His gaze forces me to focus on his voice. “I’m Eliza Hart, and I run The Hart Farms—a luxury resort tucked in the heart of Tennessee. It’s where city stress goes to die.”
His tone drips with confidence, practiced charm, and something I can’t quite put my finger on—something that makes butterflies flutter in my stomach.
“That wording draws people in,” he says. “It makes them want to know more.”
I shift in my seat, and the flight attendant returns to set down our drinks.
A tall, glistening whiskey for him. A sad, room-temperature water for me.
I eye his liquor longingly.
“Once you pull someone in,” he continues, picking up his drink, “you have to make them want to stay.”
He takes a slow sip, watching me over the rim of the glass like he’s enjoying every second of this power play.
“So, here’s your next assignment,” he says. “Come up with at least ten different ways to introduce yourself to me before we land.”
What? My jaw drops. “Ten?”
“At least.”
“In that case...” I lift my sad little water. “I would really appreciate some alcohol.”
“You can appreciate it by watching me enjoy it.” He grins, licking a stray drop off his bottom lip.
“Now—try again. Introduce yourself to me, Miss Hart.
ELEVEN
HARRISON
Ihang back at baggage claim, watching Eliza’s every move.
She’s standing near a pole, chatting with her friend Janey on the phone, looking shockingly… shy.
Completely unaware that every man passing by does a not-so-subtle double-take.
Even in that awful terry-cloth Hello Kitty dress, she’s a damn vision.
As I take note of the way she bites her bottom lip—something she’ll definitely need to unlearn for business meetings—my phone buzzes.
Jackson.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Did y’all make it in okay?”
“We’re fine. I was going to text you once we got to the car.”
“Makes sense,” he says. “I, uh… I need another favor.”
“This is already a pretty big one.”
“It still falls under the same umbrella, I promise.” His voice shifts—lower, heavier. The easy laughter from earlier is gone.
“I’m renting out her suite while she’s away—helps me keep the barn’s lights on,” he says. “Just... don’t let her come home for breaks or anything. Keep her busy so she never finds out, okay?”
“Jackson, I can give you money for stuff like that,” I say. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Don’t ever offer me a dime again,” he snaps. “I haven’t hit rock bottom, and I don’t plan to—because you’re already helping me with what really matters. Got it?”
I don’t respond.
“Thanks, man.” He fills in the silence. “Tell Eliza to call me before she goes to bed.”
“Jackson…”
“I really appreciate it. Keep me posted. Bye.”