Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“About Thailand—”
She cut him off, irritation already written all over her face. “Are you canceling the night before we are supposed to leave?”
“You’ll have a better time without me.”
Her artificially plump mouth tightened, and her brow would have furrowed if not for her regular Botox injections. “Don’t I mean anything to you? I thought this trip signified a change in our relationship.”
“When we booked it,” he said slowly, “I thought that might be the case. But you can do better than me.”
Her nostrils flared. “You son of a bitch. Stringing me along. Letting me think you were serious when I could have been with anyone.”
“I am sorry, Katrina.”
“I don’t care if you’re sorry. I don’t need your apologies.”
“I can transfer my ticket over to one of your girlfriends, if that would help at all.”
She was silent for a long moment. “Actually, I will take you up on that offer. But the ticket won’t be for one of my girlfriends.” Her eyes were like daggers as she said, with no small measure of satisfaction, “You can transfer it into my lover’s name.”
He nearly laughed at that point. He hadn’t expected her to bring up a lover, hadn’t actually guessed that she’d been seeing anyone but him for the past couple of months. But at the same time, he wasn’t particularly surprised. After all, he wasn’t around much. He canceled their dates frequently for work. He didn’t care about the world of fashion. And she’d made it clear that spending time with his family wasn’t high on her priority list. All of which meant they had very little in common.
“Do I know him?”
Her smile grew even more self-satisfied. “The hotshot new lawyer I brought onto my team from America is a demon in bed.”
Again, it took great self-control not to laugh. But although she was clearly trying to get a rise out of him, he understood that laughter wasn’t the reaction she was looking for.
“Sure,” he said. “I can put his name on the ticket. Happy to do it.”
Her eyes widened at his easy acquiescence, then narrowed again as she put her hands flat on the tabletop and leaned in. “You really don’t care about me, do you?”
“I’ve had a good time with you,” he replied as gently as he could, “and I’m sorry if I’ve let you down along the way.”
“Let me down along the way?” Her voice pitched higher with every word she spoke. “I’ve never had anyone cancel on me as much as you! And I’ve never had anyone pay me as little attention as you do! You’re a billionaire, and Smith Sullivan is your cousin, so there were some sacrifices I was willing to make, if only to have him attend our wedding.” She shoved her chair back as if to storm out, then paused. “Actually, before I go, I want you to call the airline and get that change made.”
He called the global concierge who took care of these things for him. Five minutes later, it was done. Katrina and her new lover were going to have a great time together in Thailand on Malcolm’s dime.
As soon as he put down his phone, his now ex-girlfriend stood. She picked up her drink, and he saw the intent in her gaze a beat before the cool, sticky liquid of her untouched cosmopolitan splashed all over him.
This time, he let himself laugh. At which point, she picked up his drink and doused him with that one too.
Without needing to look around the room, he knew that everyone in the restaurant was enjoying the show. And this was the perfect cherry on top. Malcolm Sullivan, London billionaire, with not one, but two drinks splashed in his face.
He wouldn’t be surprised to see a photo gracing the tabloids tomorrow.
Katrina stalked out of the restaurant just as the waiter appeared with Malcolm’s steak and her salad. “Sir, here are your meals.” He put them down before asking, “Is there anything else I can do to be of assistance?”
“How about a towel?”
To the man’s credit, he barely even blinked. “Of course. Happy to be of service.”
Twenty minutes later, Malcolm left the restaurant, pleasantly full from a damn good piece of red meat. In lieu of taking a taxi, he decided to walk to his flat. There was a slight breeze, but it was a nice London night. Elderflower Island was his favorite place, but central London wasn’t half bad. Endless amounts of history. Plenty of outdoor space. River sports. Great proximity to the rest of Europe. Top-notch restaurants and shops.
In any case, he was looking forward to getting back to his flat and showering off the sticky drinks that had dried on his skin and hair.
When he rounded the corner to his building, he was surprised to see a host of maintenance trucks. Several of his neighbors were grumbling on the sidewalk.