My Enemy My Obsession (Dalton Family #1) Read Online Lisa Renee Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark Tags Authors: Series: Dalton Family Series by Lisa Renee Jones
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Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
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And just like that, I’m dismissed again.

There’s a punch in my chest with the certainty he’s done with me, but as he’d told me in Hawaii, he’s an investor, and he sees something in me and my brand that he’s not willing to let a night in Hawaii destroy. This should please me, but as I say, “Understood,” and start walking toward the door, it does not. In fact, I’m spiraling emotionally, and I can’t even identify why. I just…am.

My hand is on the doorknob when I hear him say, “And yet, you don’t understand at all.”

His voice is low and gravelly, with a snap of anger to it. I do not believe he intends for me to hear. This was not for my ears, and yet, I heard, and I have never been so confused in my life. What don’t I understand? But I don’t turn and ask—not here, not now, and maybe not ever.

I walk out of the door.

I find my way back to the lobby, and Cindy greets me. “Well?”

“It was good. We’re talking through partnership options.”

“I’m so happy for you,” she beams. “There’s a car waiting on you downstairs.” She hands me a piece of paper. “My number, if you want to have drinks tonight or another night you’re in town. I’m obsessed with your designs. I’d love to hear all about your plans.”

My head spins with the joy of the compliment. “Thank you. I love hearing that. And I’d love to get together when I know more about what is going on. Thank you for being so sweet.”

She hugs me, and I head downstairs.

The ride to the hotel is long and traffic-laden, but finally I’m in my room, anxiously waiting for the package that just plain doesn’t arrive. I can’t seem to get through to the front desk, so I decide I’ll go down and ask about a package, but once I’m there, the representatives can’t find anything for me. I’m beaten and wounded, certain I said too much to Ethan, and ruined my opportunity. I don’t regret what I said, though. I feel it needed to be spoken out loud.

I decide I need a place to put my nervous energy. I go to my room, change into gym clothes, and workout for a good two hours, which includes an hour on the treadmill listening to an audio book. My mind needs something other than Ethan and the pitch to focus on. When I'm done, I return to my hotel room and call downstairs. Still no package for me.

A long shower later, I change into leggings and a tank, not about to try to impress Ethan, who is likely long gone. I'm going to stop tormenting myself with the idea that this package is still coming. Ethan, I decide, does like games. And he's played one big head game with me. It's hard to believe he'd do such a thing, and waste time and money, but here we are, or here I am.

While I’d thought to avoid the bar earlier, for fear of running into Ethan, which ended up happening, I doubt seriously that’s a problem at this point. I decide I need a drink and food tonight, and screw designs and fretting. I’m done with it all. I head into the bar and find a booth far in the back of the bar where I won’t be seen, just in case Ethan should come in, chiding myself for leaving that option open.

I sit down, order a lemon drop, and I’m halfway through it, feeling buzzed and feeling like I need food, and stat, when an envelope slides in front of me, right before Ethan settles in the seat across from me. I all but choke on a swallow of my drink, my eyes wide, adrenaline surging through me like liquid fire, or maybe that’s him that’s the fire.

“Hi,” I murmur, because it’s the only words I seem to know how to utter when I see this man.

“Hi,” he repeats, and there’s a softness to his eyes now where they’d been brutal and judgmental before.

“I should warn you that I’ve been drinking and have not eaten, which means I have no filter and can’t possibly play word roulette with you and win.”

“Sounds like the game is in my favor.”

“Is that what we’re doing? Playing a game?”

“No, Sofia. We are not playing a game at all, but we do need to talk.”

“About the contract?”

“About all the things you do not understand.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Isip my drink and study his unreadable handsome face, and with all filters buried in the vodka bottle somewhere near the bar, I say, “What I’ll never understand is why I’m here. I lied to you.”

“That was personal. Business and personal do not mix.”

“And yet you’re sitting across from me when you could have left this paperwork up front.”


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