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)
Oh crap, they’re at the front door in the pouring rain and I’m not even ready.
“I’m just in the shower, Philippe, you have a key, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Let yourself in and have a cup of coffee, I’ll be about fifteen minutes.”
“Alright then.”
I hang up and rush back through my shower, damn it I haven’t even packed.
“Thanks for today.” I smile to Jonty as I lock the store door. It’s been a productive day and we got so much done. We moved the store around, got in four deliveries and sold two large armoires, three big mirrors and nearly every lamp we had in stock. I am thoroughly exhausted and for once am happy that I don’t have to cook dinner tonight.
The blacked-out car is across the road, the waiting guards sit inside as they patiently wait. The rain has thrown everything out today, the guards haven’t been able to walk around the street as usual and I’m sure they have gone a little stir-crazy being cooped up in a car or in the front of my store. As per Edward’s instructions I have packed a few bags of my things and the boys put them in the trunk this morning and I will be staying with him in Monaco most nights from here on in.
I’m a little sad to be leaving my place here in Nice, but I’ll be going back there every day or two to water my garden before or after work and we will stay there a night or two each week. Not sure yet what we’re going to do with my place long term moving forward, but I guess we’ll work it out when we need to.
I walk across to the car where Philippe is standing waiting for me with the back door open. “Good afternoon, Miss Sorenson.” He smiles.
“Hello, Philippe, thank you.” I slink into the back seat. “What a day.”
“Yes, it’s really coming down out there.”
As the car drives through the rain in Nice, I open my phone and begin to scroll through Instagram. I need to get used to this drive.
EDWARD
I read the email.
“Mr. Prescott, Laurent is here for his appointment with Miss Sorenson.”
“Just show him up to the upper-level living room and ask him to set up there.” I keep typing. “Can everyone help bring in anything he needs carried.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Close my door on the way out, please.”
As they leave me alone, I keep working for another hour and my office door slowly opens and I glance up, Alora peeks around the doorjamb. “Hi.”
Just the sight of her brings a smile to my face and I slide my chair out and tap my lap. “Hello, Miss Sorenson.”
She walks in, sits down and I wrap my arms around her. She kisses me softly and puts her head down onto my shoulder. “How long until you finish?”
“At least another hour.”
“Hmm,” she grumbles. “I’m going to go upstairs and soak in the bath, I’m so tired.”
“Have you forgotten something?” I kiss her temple.
“What?” She looks up at me.
“Someone is coming to see you tonight?”
“Who?”
“Laurent, the stylist.”
“Oh god.” She screws up her face. “I’m way too tired to try on clothes tonight. Can we reschedule, please?”
I put my mouth to her ear and whisper to try and soften the blow, “He’s upstairs already.”
“What?”
“They’ve been carrying clothes inside in the rain for over an hour.”
“Oh god.” She throws her hands over her eyes. “I don’t even want to go to these stupid things on the weekend.”
“You’re going.” I tap her behind. “Upstairs now and get it over with.”
“Edward.” She sighs.
“What would you like for dinner, I’ll order and have it ready for when you’re finished.”
“I guess if I had to pick…” she rolls her eyes, “…chocolate cake.”
I smile and kiss her big, beautiful lips. “Go do this and I’ll have a chocolate cake waiting.”
“I’m not trying anything on. I’m just picking any old thing.” She stands.
“Okay.” I turn back to my computer. “Luckily, dressing in old things seems to be your jam. But don’t complain to me on the weekend when you have nothing to wear to two black tie functions.”
“Ugh…. This is a literal hell,” she whines. “Going out with you is becoming very high maintenance.” She stomps to the door. “And this is a real hassle that I don’t have time for,” she moans as she leaves.
I chuckle, only Alora Sorenson would complain about designer clothes waiting for her with a stylist.
She’s one of a kind, I’ll give her that.
ALORA
Edward smiles as he looks me over, his eyes dropping to my toes and back up to my face. “You look beautiful.” He takes my face in his hands and kisses me, his lips lingering over mine.
“I feel like a peacock.”
“A beautiful peacock.”
It’s Friday night and we’re about to leave for the ball, a hairdresser has been in and styled my hair in big Hollywood curls and a makeup artist came and did my makeup. I’m wearing a strapless ice-pink gown and I know I should feel beautiful, but in reality, I feel like a fish out of water. My hair is too bouffant and my makeup looks like a drag queen. I feel overdone and awkward.