Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
How was I supposed to know my grump of a boss was the best man?
Reid Hunt has it all – he’s a partner in a private equity firm, his bank account is bulging, and he gets anything he wants at the snap of his fingers.
How do I know?
I’m his executive assistant.
The jerk has me running around New York City at breakneck speed doing menial tasks.
I didn’t earn a degree from a prestigious school for this, but I need the job, at least for now.
So when fun falls in my lap in the form of a desperate heiress looking for someone to be her maid of honor, I agree to do it. It all feels too good to be true including a whirlwind weekend trip to Paris to choose her wedding dress and champagne tasting after work.
I’m having the time of my life until the night I meet the groom and his best man at one of the most expensive restaurants in Manhattan.
Fate gets the last laugh when Mr. Hunt heads straight to our table and sits down beside me.
He’s the worst best man ever. I’m the maid of honor who loves to hate him.
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness my life explode.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
Evie
I elbow the guy next to me on the subway because his manspreading is seriously cramping my style. It’s cramping everything and everyone trying to get to work this morning.
He’s taking up at least three seats. Every person on this train now knows that he’s a rich son-of-a-bitch who made Julie scream to the high heavens last night. Those are his words, not mine.
Why anyone chooses to talk on the phone while riding the subway is beyond me. Keep it to yourself. No one cares that you’re wealthy and, according to yourself, a great lover.
I toss him my best ‘you’re disgusting’ look, but all I get back is a flash of his Prince Charming smile.
Men like him lurk around every corner of Manhattan.
They are also at the helm of many multi-million and billion dollar businesses. I should know. I work for one of those men.
One big difference between my boss, Reid Hunt, and the man beside me is that Mr. Hunt doesn’t take public transportation. That and Reid is a fifteen hundred on a scale of one to one thousand. The suit staring at me right now is maybe a seven hundred.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Julie’s big-mouthed lover cocks a brow. “What’s your name?”
Shaking my head, I scratch the side of my nose.
He ends the call he’s been ignoring since we locked eyes. “I know you.”
He doesn’t.
His phone starts ringing again. He glances at it before his focus shifts back to my face. His gaze trails over my chin, cheeks, and nose before landing squarely on my blue eyes.
I haven’t had the displeasure of meeting him in person, but we spoke on the phone a few times, and I never forget a voice.
Magnus Brewster owned a business that my boss bought eight months ago. Even though Vidori Capital Partners had a team of attorneys handling the finer details, Mr. Hunt took a hands-on approach and befriended Mr. Brewster. My boss wanted the deal so badly that he’d interrupt anything to make it happen.
I know this because one afternoon, when Mr. Hunt was handling a personal matter, Magnus called the office looking for him. I told him Mr. Hunt was unavailable, but Magnus claimed it was an emergency, so I called my boss. When Reid answered, he was out of breath, and judging by the feminine laughter floating in the air around him, he wasn’t out jogging.
Magnus narrows his brown eyes. “I swear I know you.”
Shaking my head, I smile. “You don’t.”
“You’re a friend of Giselle’s, aren’t you?” He circles his index finger in the air in front of my face. “I remember every friend my younger sister ever had. You’re one of them. You went to Fortman with her.”
I went to public school in Milford, Connecticut. A year of tuition at the renowned Fortman Academy on the Upper West Side of Manhattan costs more than my current annual salary.
“Wrong face.” I laugh it off. “I’m just a woman trying to get to work on a very crowded subway.”
Looking me over, he runs a hand along his smooth jaw.
I wish I had taken a minute more to choose something to wear to work today. My light blue dress screams spring, but it’s a smidge too tight in the chest area. That’s what I get for buying it off the discount rack.
While he tries to figure out the riddle of who I am, I point at him. “Would you mind moving over a bit, please?”
He finally crosses his long legs. “Something about you is very familiar. Did you have a crush on me when you and Giselle were teenagers? Is that it? You’re embarrassed to admit it now, aren’t you?”
Inflated ego much, Brewster?
Feeling as though it’s my duty to knock him down a notch or two, I sigh. “It’s not that. It’s…”
His back straightens. “It’s what?”
I hope Julie, the woman who supposedly made a call to the high heavens when he was nailing her, appreciates what I’m about to do. A man should never kiss and tell.
The train slows as it approaches my stop, so I raise my voice just loud enough that every person within three feet can hear me. “That night we spent together was one of the worst I’ve ever had.”
His mouth falls open. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“That’s what I said when it was over.” I roll my eyes. “You must have been having an off night, Brewster.”
Confusion knits his brow at my mention of his surname. “We fucked? You’re cute, but you’re not my usual type.”
“I feel the same way about you.” Rising to my feet, I pat his shoulder. “Thank goodness there are a lot of single men in this city.”
I exit the train, never turning back to catch the look on Mr. Brewster’s face. I don’t have the time. I’m already running late, and if there’s one thing Mr. Hunt despises, it’s tardiness.