Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 119852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
But there’s something about Kay. More than her beauty, though she is gorgeous. It’s like she’s the finest porcelain China and we’re bulls that want to rampage through her shop. She’s not fragile or delicate, though. Her confidence says that so loudly and clearly that even an idiot like me can hear it, and I think she can handle Maddox and me with ease. Not physically—we know how to manage that—but mentally and emotionally, which is a rarer trait in women, who usually tend to get attached more readily than men do. Or at least, than Maddox and I do.
Completely unaware of the entire conversation Maddox and I have had while she was silently staring at her drink, Kay lifts her gaze to mine, answering my question. “Work.”
All that thinking to get a one-syllable, one-word answer? Is this what Maddox feels like when he tries to interrogate me? I lift my pint glass in a classic toast. “Work sucks, then you die.”
Maddox hisses out a ‘fuck, man’, but Kay laughs as she clinks her glass against mine. “That it does.” But then she tilts her head, considering thoughtfully before correcting herself. “Sometimes. Usually, I love what I do,” she reveals, setting her glass down without taking a drink. “But days like today, I just want to quit in a fiery blaze of glory, telling stupid people to go ahead with the stupid shit they want to do, even though I know they’ll come crawling back, begging for my help when they realize their mistake too late.”
Well, damn, girl. Tell me what you really think, I think with an internal guffaw. Actually, given the strange look Maddox is shooting me, I think that rough sound was me actually laughing. I rush to cover it, asking, “And will you help them when they beg?”
Her brows wrinkle as if that’s a ridiculous question, and she shakes her head. “Of course not. One-time offer, one-time deal. If McCormick is too blinded by his own illusions of grandeur to see what’s right in front of him in black and white, that’s not my problem. I’m an angel investor, not a guardian angel.”
I want to ask who this McCormick asshole is because he obviously got under her skin, but she’s already clamping her lips together like she’s said too much. And maybe she has. One, she’s made it clear that she doesn’t put up with bullshit. And two, I know what an angel investor is. Essentially, it means Miss Thing has money, or at a minimum, works for someone who has money. I’m not surprised, given the watch on her wrist, the tasteful diamonds in her ears, and the designer cut of her clothes. I might not wear expensive things often, but I can recognize them after years of being married to a label-hound, and Kay is someone who likes the finer things in life.
Maddox subtly kicks me under the table and I flip my frown upside down… Well, technically, just into a straighter expression because smiles aren’t exactly my strong suit, but Maddox easily steps in, smoothing things over. “If you were to quit, where’s the first place you’d go on vacation?”
He makes it sound like a light-hearted, even shallow, question, but depending on her answer, it could be telling. ‘The beach’ is very different from ‘the northern coast of Ibiza’ despite both of them being sandy and sunny.
“I could never quit,” she says with no hesitation, “but my favorite vacation as a kid was to my grandmom and granddad’s place. We’d ride horses all day and cook dinner together every night. More recently, after my brother’s wedding in the middle of the woods, I rented a cabin for a few extra days, stayed completely alone—me, myself, and I—totally unplugged from the whole world. It was amazing. I’d do that again in a heartbeat if I could.” A happy sigh passes over her lips as her eyes roll back in her head, telling us exactly how fondly she remembers the few days of peace and quiet.
Honestly, a few days in a cabin in the middle of nowhere sounds like my idea of a perfect vacation too. Except I don’t think I’m the best of company for myself. Or at least I’ve never come out of a day alone with the look of bliss on my face that’s currently washing over Kay’s. Probably because my head is so loud most of the time, telling me what an asshole I am, reminding me of my failures, and asking me what the hell I think I’m doing. Thankfully, if I tried to go alone, Maddox would most likely tag along, bringing the beer, the deck of cards we play with when we fly to away games, and a constant stream of chatter to distract me from my demons. He’s good like that.