Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Taking a bite of the bruschetta, I tried not to smear my makeup, which felt strange. For years, it had been a daily thing. Here, I’d almost forgotten how to apply it. But I’d have to get used to it again for the press tour. It was less than two weeks from now.
And it meant leaving Tristan, Carter and Drew.
That was another reason to dread it. But then again, it would also mean meeting Miranda and showing her my screenplay. Carter had even remembered that and included it in the toast.
“Why are you smiling?” Drew asked. He held an appetizer in his hand, but he hadn’t taken a bite yet.
There were many answers I could’ve given him, but I chose the one that was the most pertinent at the moment. “I’m on a date.”
“Dinner’s ready.” Carter stood in the doorway to the kitchen, and if he was nervous about the meal, he didn’t show it.
To my surprise, the round wooden table had been transformed. The place settings were the same, but there were several lit candles and even a centerpiece of sorts, with evergreen branches and pinecones.
“Who did the décor?” I asked.
“Me.” Tristan looked a little sheepish. “I know the pine sprigs look a little Christmassy, but I didn’t have much to work with.”
Carter came up behind me and set a covered dish down on the table. “Too bad we couldn’t have sent Drew down for flowers, too.”
“It looks nice,” I told Tristan as he held my chair for me. Such a gentleman. I reached out to touch a candle. It was rather on the short and squat side, and didn’t give off any scent.
“It’s an emergency candle,” Tristan said when he was seated next to me. “It was all we had.”
“Looks like we all did our part,” I observed. Carter had cooked. Tristan had decorated. Drew had gotten my suitcase from my cabin, and I’d taken the time to look my best. It wasn’t the same as preparing a meal for everyone, but I hoped the men knew how glad I was to be here with them tonight.
Carter had gone full-on Italian for the meal, and I wondered if he was of Italian descent. His dark hair and eyes made it a definite possibility. Didn’t really matter. He could be part goblin and he’d still be handsome as hell.
But he actually made a pretty decent fettuccini alfredo, especially considering we were operating with a limited pantry. Therefore, there was no salad, which would’ve gone well with it, but it was still a decent meal.
“My compliments to the chef.” I raised my nearly empty wine glass and then finished it.
Tristan refilled it, but I made him stop when it was half full.
“Want more fettucine?” Carter asked.
“No thank you. There’s not much extra room in this dress.”
“So I noticed,” he said with a smirk that made my thighs clench.
Tristan and Carter ate large portions of pasta, but Drew still seemed not quite like himself. He was probably tired from his trip down to my cabin and back. Still, it would be good to get him talking. “What’s the best meal you’ve ever had?”
He grinned, looking like his normal self. “This one, of course.” He tipped an imaginary cap to Carter, and we all laughed.
“Way to suck up to the boss,” I said.
Tristan shook his head. “It’s not like that. We’re partners. We’ve all got roles to play. We’re all in charge of different aspects of the company.”
“So all three of you are the bosses? That’s good, but don’t you need to have some people to boss around?”
“Are you volunteering?” Carter gave me an exaggerated leer that still managed to make my pulse speed up.
“Nope. I’m a boss, too.”
Drew gave me a high five, and I grinned like a Cheshire cat. It was true that I hadn’t always been a boss. In fact, I’d spent most of my career getting bossed around, although not in whatever dirty way Carter was thinking. My agent and my mother—mostly my mother—had controlled my career. But now I’d cut ties with the latter.
As for my agent, she’d wanted me to book more high-profile movies after we wrapped Thrill of the Chase, but I’d prioritized my screenplay. Doing my own thing had gotten me a genuine shot to get my script into the hands of a talented director… and it had indirectly brought me to the table with these amazing men.
At last, the men seemed to have eaten their fill. “I definitely don’t have room for dessert,” Drew said.
“Me either,” I added.
“Good,” Carter said. “Because there isn’t any.”
Drew looked incensed. “Your world-renowned date-night dinner doesn’t include dessert?”
“Dessert usually happens in the bedroom,” Carter said.
That didn’t sit well with Tristan. “Don’t be crass.”
“It’s the truth, though.”
“You can tell the truth and still be crass at the same time,” Drew pointed out.