Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“What time is my consultation again for my nipple reconfiguration?”
“It was pushed back to 1:20 so that it wouldn’t interfere with the rug replacement session.”
“Oooo,” she gleefully squeals on a mini golf clap, “I love my monthly meetings with Inanna! She never fails to dazzle me.”
That makes one of us.
To call Inanna any sort of designer would be an insult of epic proportions to those out there who have earned the title. Inanna is nothing more than a clever con woman with an animal print obsession she used to bond with my boss over a broken nail fixing moment at the nail salon Brandi was nearest that day. Her safari meets trapped in zoo design has overthrown this entire space – better known as my boss’s main office – to the point that personally calling PETA is creeping up on my to do list.
“And your incredible track record with getting the job done without fail is the reason why I’ve chosen you,” Brandi casually brags.
Huh.
Didn’t have “being good at my job” on the list of potential explanations for why I’m losing mine.
The irony there is so blinding that if I hadn’t broken my sunglasses this morning getting out of the car, I would probably put them on right now.
“I know,” her face unexpectedly softens, “without a doubt that you – and only you – can be trusted to do whatever it takes to get my nephew to that event.”
Warmth threatens to tightly embrace me. “Aw, I’m…flattered. Touched really. I-”
“You’re fired if you don’t.”
My slightly chapped lips are tucked between my teeth for chewing.
“Financially speaking, this assignment itself has a bottomless budget. Meaning anything and everything Tuck wants, Tuck needs to have. The longer we can keep him placated the longer he’ll be distracted and the more likely it is we can keep him trapped in town.”
Why do I feel like I’m about to be an accessory to kidnapping?
“As for you – the babysitter – your monthly salary will become your daily salary for the duration of this task. And if you succeed – which I hope you do – I’ll have a blush worthy bonus waiting for you.” Her smirk shifts to one that’s almost villainous. “We’re talking big enough to never worry about the cost of going to visit your baby brother-”
“Sister.”
“-up in college during her next four years, six if she goes for her masters.”
Doubtful.
Convincing her to simply go to college was hard enough.
“You can pick Tuck up from his doctor’s office in about twenty minutes,” she nonchalantly announces at the same time she plucks up a piece of the kiwi. “He is the only person my nephew never fails to see whenever he comes to town.” The sliver of fruit is slipped past her bright red painted lips. “Good luck, Juniper. You’re gonna need it.”
If Tucker Frost is anything like his narcissistic, cartoon Disney villain aunt come to life, then yeah.
I’m most certainly gonna need it.
That and to spruce up my resume because there’s no way I can do this.
Chapter 2
Tucker
“And where in the world has Tucker Frost been this time?” Nancy Peterson, my favorite phlebotomist, questions at the same time she reaches over to grab fresh medical gloves. “Paris? Rome? Bangkok?”
I turn my tattooed, sun-kissed arm over to expose the territory she needs. “Coast of Hilo.”
“Which is…?”
“Hawaiʻi.”
Beautiful place.
Beautiful memories.
Beautiful women.
Then again, everywhere I go has beautiful women.
That’s one of the best parts of life.
“Learned while I was there that the way we have come to spell their gorgeous place isn’t the same way they do. There’s actually an okina – a symbol lacking on most keyboards, so an apostrophe acts as a placeholder for it most of the time – between the Is. It can also be used to help with proper annunciation.”
“Well, however you spell it, I’d still love to go,” she longingly sighs. “Doubt I ever will between three kids, three dogs, and a mortgage we can barely afford.”
Sounds awful.
Then again, domestication has almost always sounded awful.
Who wants to be that weighed down by shit that makes them so fucking miserable?
What’s the point of all of that if you just end up drowning in regrets and what ifs?
“So…” her sweet voice coos as she grabs the nearby pink band to tie around my arm, “what were you doing this time? Or would the more accurate question be who?”
“Bus boy at local restaurant. They served the best roasted purple potato salad on the whole island.” Mischievousness muscles its way into my expression prior my blue gaze lifting to meet her brown. “And her name was Iolani. She had a fondness for making love next to the ocean at sunrise, so I’d spend a few hours painting her and then let her spend a few hours painting me if you catch my drift.”
The playful wink she’s shot receives an amused eyeroll.