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)
“How was your day, sweetheart?”
“Wonderful,” I whisper. “How was yours?”
“Even better than that.” I can tell that he’s smiling too. “What’s up?”
“Photographers have started congregating outside my store.”
“Yes, so I heard.”
“Well….”
“Well, what?”
“Well, what do I do?”
“Ignore them.”
“What?” I frown. “How do I ignore them?”
“You walk out to the car with your guards and you get into it and then they will drive you into our secured garage and then they’ll leave.”
“Oh.” I frown as I think. “So I don’t have to do anything?”
“No. Not unless you want to.”
“Want to what?”
“If you want to answer their questions you can, although I would advise against it because if they know you are going to entertain them then they will hound you even more.”
“Oh.” I begin to pace as I think.
“Is that all?” He cuts me off.
“I mean…. Are you in a rush or something?”
“No, but the ten men sitting around the conference table who are all watching and waiting might be.”
I hear a collective chuckle of men.
“Oh, crap. Sorry. Okay, bye.” I hang up in a rush and screw up my face in horror. How do I always forget that he’s busy in meetings all the time? I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to dating someone important.
“What did he say?” Helene calls as she stands at the front window. “It’s becoming a real circus now, and can we talk about how hot Philippe is when he’s being bossy?” She puts her arm out all dramatic like. “Get back,” she says in a deep voice as she mimics him.
Jonty and I roll our eyes at each other.
“He said ignore them and just get into the car without saying anything to them.”
“That makes sense,” Jonty replies. “Don’t want to encourage the fuckers.”
“That’s what he said.” I pack up my things. “Okay, are we ready?”
“Yep.” The others grab their things and we turn off the lights and make our way over and open the front doors. “Miss Sorenson,” someone calls. “Can I have an exclusive please?”
“Miss Sorenson, congratulations on your engagement.”
“Miss Sorenson, how did you meet Mr. Prescott?”
“This way.” Philippe leads me to the car as cameras flash and I am quickly ushered into the back seat and the door is slammed behind me.
Cameras flash through the windows and I glance up to see Helene and Jonty walking down the street alone and my heart sinks. I didn’t even say goodbye to them.
Ugh, I need to get better at this.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
ALORA
Breakfast on the deck of the yacht is always so perfect.
“And we have a honeymoon to go on next month,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Edward.” I roll my eyes. “What makes you think that we’re getting married in a month?”
“Because we are.”
“No we’re not.” I widen my eyes. “I want to take my time and pick my dream dress and organize every little detail and have fun doing it.”
He rolls his eyes this time. “Fine. You have six weeks.”
“Edward.”
“It’s not up for discussion. I want to be married.”
“Well, if you want to be married in six weeks we have to elope.”
“Suits me.”
“What?” I stare at him. “You want to elope?”
“No. I want a small wedding. My family, your family. A handful of friends each. That’s it.”
“Oh.” I think for a moment, that does sound nice actually. “Where do you want to get married?” I ask him.
He presses his lips together. “Wherever you want.”
“Really?” I smile. “Elvis wedding in Vegas?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Underwater while we scuba dive?”
“Hard no.”
“Skydiving above Mount Kosciuszko?”
“Will you be serious?” he snaps.
“Okay then.” I narrow my eyes as I pretend to think. I already know where I want to get married. “I guess if I had to choose I would like to get married on your family property.”
Tenderness glows in his eyes and I know this was his dream. “Really?”
“Really.”
He gets up and comes around to my side of the table and leans down and kisses my cheek from behind. “Thank you. This means a lot to me.”
“Six months,” I tell him.
“No.”
“Four months.”
He squeezes my shoulders. “No.”
“Edward.”
“You have six weeks and that’s it.” He sits back down at his side of the table and picks up the newspaper, no longer interested in the topic. “What would you like for breakfast?”
“Whatever.” I stare out over the sunshine dancing across the water, my mind already buzzing.
What kind of wedding dress do I want?
“Hello, is Miss Sorenson here?” the pretty young girl asks me at the front counter. She’s around twenty-two with beautiful red hair, olive skin and big brown eyes.
“Yes. I am her,” I reply, who is this?
“Hello, my name is Freya Barber. I am one of Mr. Prescott’s PAs.” Her eyes dart around as if she’s nervous.
“Right….” Where the hell is this going? “How can I help you?”
“Umm….” She shrugs awkwardly. “Mr. Prescott had me driven here to offer my services to you for the next few months to work as your personal assistant.”