Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“He was the true visionary behind this place. He purchased this land decades ago with nothing more than anticipation. The only mistake he made was not getting his hands on more of it, back when it was easier to do so.”
I roll my eyes—and hope Henry catches it—as I meet Ronan’s stare.
He mouths “What a prick.”
“Now, everyone, eat, drink, and enjoy yourselves tonight on me because the next time you come, you’ll be paying heavily.”
A hum of laughter and voices fills the space, though I doubt he’s joking.
I pretend to take a sip before setting the full glass down, just as a plate appears before me.
Oh well, like Gigi said, at least I’m getting a fancy meal out of this, at Henry Wolf’s expense.
13. Ronan
Connor plows through the door into the restroom just as I’m buckling my belt. “Fuck, man, that meal was up there with their wedding.” He’s not limping as much, at least, but his bottom lip has turned a darker shade of purple.
“What’d you have?”
“King crab, baby.” He unzips his pants in front of the urinal and unloads what must be several pints into the drain. “How’s dinner with the big boss going?”
“Probably as good as dinner sitting across from our general manager.” Given their earlier hookup, I would have expected Belinda to move Connor as far away from her as possible.
He tips his head back with a groan. “Dude, I didn’t think it was possible for her to hate me more, but I’m pretty sure she does. If she could reach me under the table, I think she would have speared my nuts with those fucking heels of hers by now.”
I chuckle as I wash my hands. “Nah, you’re still useful to her.”
“You mean my dick is.” Connor finishes up and joins me at the sink. “So, how many times has Wolf fired you so far?”
“Hasn’t yet, but I’m waiting for it.” The guy likes to bide his time, feel in control. He’s said almost nothing directly to me through dinner, though I’m sure the snide comments to Sloane were meant to antagonize me. It worked. I nearly snapped more than once.
But Sloane beat me to the punch every time, tossing back words coated in animosity but decorated with a smile. She does not shrink around Henry Wolf like everyone else seems to, and that is sexy as hell.
“And what’s Margo up to?” Connor asks.
“Being Margo.” I replay her lewd proposal at the dinner table, delivered in French so neither Sloane nor Abbi understood a word. “Let’s just say she was really hoping we might join them later in their room. She wants to get to know Sloane better.” She already knows me well enough after a night of debauchery for Abbi’s birthday last year.
Connor’s eyebrow arches. “And you said no?”
“That’s not Sloane’s thing.” And having Joel—or any guy—around her is turning out to be not my thing. I joked about taking her butter knife away, but I nearly threw mine at that French fucker’s forehead earlier when I caught his eyes down her dress.
Damn it, Belinda. She could have seated us together, but she had to be a bitch. That can be remedied, though. I’m going to go out there and swap seats for dessert. I should have done it three courses ago. I’m the idiot for that.
“Well, I’m definitely not saying no.” Connor checks his hair in the mirror. The guy has had a perpetual hard-on for Margo for years. His dick stands up when he even hears her name, I swear to God.
“That’s fine. Just don’t be surprised when you look down and it’s not Margo’s lips around your cock.” From what Abbi’s hinted at, Joel might be a big fan of pussy, but he likes to get in on the action wherever he can.
“Huh? What do you mean—”
The door swings open then, and Henry walks in.
“And on that note, don’t wait up for me.” Connor strolls out, tossing a “great dinner” on his way past.
There’s no need for me to linger either. I make my move for the door.
“Have you told her about my plans for Mermaid Beach yet?” Henry calls out.
His question stalls my feet. “If I had, do you think she would have sat through dinner?”
He unfastens his zipper. The sound of streaming urine fills the otherwise empty restroom. “Why not?”
“Because you told me not to.”
“As if you give a shit what I want. I also told you to stay away from her, and you brought her here tonight, introducing her as your girlfriend.”
“That was Abbi, not me.” Not that I’m complaining. It has a nice ring to it.
“So why haven’t you told her yet?” he presses.
I sigh heavily. “Because she’ll be devastated. You’re taking away her home, her business. Her life. And she’ll probably end things with me because of my ties to this hotel.”