Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“Sofia knows the ins and outs of that contract,” I say to no one in particular. “She and I will head out tonight.”
Rafe raises an eyebrow at me at the same time Tomasso shakes his head.
“Does Sofia know about this?” Rafe asks me.
“She will in ten seconds,” I tell him. “Text me if you need me this weekend. I’ll be in Vegas.”
Rafe rolls his eyes again and Tomasso just nods, looking between us like he doesn’t really understand what’s going on.
They both leave my office, and I shoot a message to Sofia since it’s the only way to get her attention lately.
Go home and pack a bag. We need to go to Vegas. Wheels up at six.
She’s in my office not thirty seconds later.
“What the hell, Dominic?” she snaps.
“Oh, so it’s Dominic, now?” I ask her.
She narrows her eyes at me. “We’ve never discussed anything about work trips,” she says darkly. “You can’t expect me to just pack up and go at your whim.”
I sigh and motion for her to sit down. She crosses her arms, but doesn’t budge.
“This isn’t something I would normally ask of you,” I tell her honestly. “The Francelo deal is going to fall through because of some sort of union dispute. You handled all that paperwork. I need you.”
“Fine,” she answers tersely. “Then I’ll go on my own. There’s no reason you should have to go too.”
“I have to go because they’re going to need my signature on the amended paperwork,” I point out.
“You could always e-sign,” she argues.
“Sofia,” I groan. “We have to get past this. I swear on my nonna’s grave that I’m not trying to seduce you by flying you on a private jet to Vegas. I need you to help close this deal for me. I’ll even give you a few days off after the trip to make up for it.”
Her arms are still crossed, but her shoulders relax a little.
“How long are we going to be gone?” she asks. “Do I need to have someone water my plants?”
I can’t help but laugh. Even when she’s pissed at me, she still maintains that dry humor of hers.
“It should only take a day or two. Besides, you’ll love Vegas.”
She looks me up and down. “I very much doubt that,” she huffs before turning on her heel and marching out.
Thankfully, her anger doesn’t stop her from leaving with me a few hours later. We take a town car to a private airport in Jersey, and I try not to feel smug when her jaw drops at the sight of my jet.
“Ever been on one?” I ask her casually.
She shoots me a look that says I should know she hasn’t, and I smile.
“Come on,” I tell her.
Never one to give me what I want, she doesn’t react much to the interior of the jet. Not the Italian leather seats or the champagne waiting for us. In fact, she raises her eyebrows at that, and I have to raise my hands in surrender.
“Standard on all of our flights,” I tell her. “I swear to God I’m not pulling out the stops just for you.”
She hums to herself and drops into one of the seats, scooting around to get comfortable.
“It’s nice, I guess.” She shrugs. “But I won’t be drinking the champagne. I need to keep a clear head.”
I take the barb for what it is. She’s clearly still angry that we slept together, but it’s not like I planned for it to happen or forced the issue. I was just as taken aback as she was. Maybe this weekend gives us a chance to air out our grievances. Then again, judging by the way she glares at me when I sit down across from her, maybe not.
The flight attendant comes to check on us, then the pilot announces takeoff. She grips the arms of her chair as the plane starts to taxi, her knuckles turning white.
“Not a flyer?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “I’m here for work, and nothing more. Let’s just get the contracts sorted out. We don’t have to talk.”
The plane starts to ascend, and she clutches the chair even harder. I wish we were in a place where I could crack a joke, or even comfort her. Part of me thinks we’ll never get back to that place. So I put in my earbuds and brace for what will probably be a disaster of a weekend.
When she’s not looking, I sneak a peek. After a month of barely seeing her, it feels like my first meal in days. I’ve missed her, I realize. I’ve missed our closeness, the knowledge that she’s always right there when I need her. I’ve missed our banter, flirty just beneath the surface. I’ve missed having her around.
When the plane finally levels out, she looks up with wide eyes and clutches her stomach.