Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
“Barbados?”
“What?” I stammer. “I have to work today.”
“Relax.” He throws me a sexy wink. “That’s Monte Carlo just over there.”
“Oh.” I smile, feeling stupid, and pick up a morning paper, wait a minute…. How does a newspaper get here, is there like a water postman delivery driver or…. I open the paper as Edward fills my coffee cup.
“Are we going back in soon? Because I have to work today.”
“Yes, have some breakfast first and we’ll head in.” He sips his coffee. “I’ve been giving your situation some thought.”
“My situation?”
“Yes. I think it’s time you put a manager into your store.”
“Huh?” I frown. “Why would I do that?”
“So that you can—”
“Be at your beck and call?” I cut him off.
He smiles at my comeback. “Travel with me when needed.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t be mistaken, being at my beck and call is high on your to-do list.” His eyes dance with mischief.
“Edward.” I sigh, unimpressed.
“I’m just saying…you want to launch more into the decorating space and working with interior decorators but you are tied down so hard to that store that you can’t even take a day off.”
“I like working.” I sip my coffee.
“I know that, and you can every day if you wish, but wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to share the load with you and cover if we need to go away?”
“I’ll think about it, but no rush. We aren’t going away anywhere soon.”
“Yes we are.”
“Like where?”
“I have to be in Vegas soon and I want to take you home and meet your father while we’re in the States.”
“You do?” I smile.
He picks up his phone and calls someone. “Hello, we are ready for breakfast. Two egg-white omelets, fresh fruit, and a side of pancakes with bacon. And an almond croissant for Alora. Thank you.” He hangs up without saying goodbye.
So bossy….
“We have a full weekend of social engagements, so I’ve organized for my personal shopper to call on you.”
“What?” I snap, annoyed.
He looks up over his paper. “Tone.” He raises an eyebrow.
“Why would you think I would want a shopper?”
“Well, we have a ball on Friday night. I’m playing polo on Saturday, which you will be coming to with drinks after, and then we have a private party at Theodore’s house on Saturday night.”
Oh, hell no….
“Four things in the one weekend?” I slump into the chair, “That’s a bit of overkill, isn’t it?”
“No.” He keeps reading.
“Well, they say that being out too much and being too available isn’t a good look.”
“Who says that?”
“You know, the styling shows.”
“What styling shows?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Life of the rich and famous and stuff.”
His eyes rise above the paper as amusement flashes across his face.
“That sounded ridiculous, even to me.” I smile, embarrassed.
He raises an eyebrow in agreement.
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t.”
“Do I have to come?”
“Yes.” He goes back to reading. “Don’t even start that shit.”
“Polo…you’re such a blue blood snob.”
He sips his coffee. “I’ve been called worse.”
“Why do you think I need a shopper? Don’t you like the way I dress?”
“I do, I just thought…. She’s a stylist, she’s very good.”
“Has she styled any of your ex-girlfriends?”
“No. Why would you even ask that?”
“Well, I don’t want anyone young and hot and in love with you.” I imagine them all fawning over him and my blood boils. “I don’t want anyone who even knows you, actually? And I’m only interested in vintage fashion.”
His eyes flick up to me. “Would you prefer a male stylist?”
“Do you have one?”
“No, but Theo’s stylist, Laurent, is apparently very good.”
“Can I have him?”
“I suppose so.” He keeps reading his paper and turns the page. “If he looks at you the wrong way I will end his life, but hey, that’s on you.”
“Your breakfast, sir,” the server says, he has a man behind him and they are both carrying huge trays; they carefully place it all down in front of us.
“Thanks.” I smile, embarrassed, did they just hear what we were talking about?
“You’re welcome.” They disappear.
“Jeez,” I whisper as I look over the table. “There’s enough food for ten people here?”
“Yeah, well, I worked up the appetite of ten men last night.” His eyes meet mine and we smirk at each other, the air crackles between us.
“More like fifteen.”
“Eat your food.” He smiles as he unwraps the napkin.
I begin to cut my toast. “Can we stay at my place tonight? I need to get some more things and I want to water my plants.”
“I guess.” He exhales. “But I want you to move in with me full-time.”
My eyes rise to meet his. “You do?”
“Yes, our principal residence will be here. Bring all of your clothes.”
I roll my eyes, unimpressed that he just assumes we can live here.
“What?” he asks.
“Why can’t we live together at my house?”
“Because it won’t work.”
“Why not?”
“Because we need more room and your house isn’t suitable for my men. I need a gym and to be close to work in case of an emergency.”