Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“Best be getting a move on,” Eric called, clamping a hand on my shoulder as he passed. “It is going to be a long night.
With that, I climbed into the front passenger seat, having to move one of those airport neck pillows out of my way before I sat down.
I guess that was how he survived the long nights on the town. By sleeping in the car while Scarlet was clubbing.
Suddenly, I kind of wish I’d gotten the job as her driver instead of her bodyguard.
There was a partition up between us and the backseat, but I could hear Scarlet’s muffled voice as she, I presumed, called a friend. Or maybe she was posting videos on her socials. Who the fuck knew.
“So, you’re the new one, eh?” Eric asked as he pulled away from the curb.
“Julian,” I said, nodding at him.
“Eric, but you already knew that.”
“How long have you been with Scarlet?” I asked.
“Me? Oh, since she was about… thirteen,” he said. “Just after her mama passed. Mr. Chandelier needed someone to drive her and the nanny around. Been driving her around ever since.”
That was, what? Ten years or so?
“How many guards has she gone through in that time?” I asked.
His lips tipped up slightly at that.
“I stopped counting,” he admitted. “But between me and you, those others… she was right to drive them off.”
Curiosity piqued, I tried to school my voice, so it didn’t come across too eager when I spoke again.
“Were they not good at their jobs?”
“They were not good men,” was all Eric would tell me, and I felt like he wasn’t giving me an opening to ask more than that.
An old-timer like Eric, though, that really only meant one thing. That he felt their interests weren’t what they should have been.
Had they been inappropriate with Scarlet?
Was that why she’d made them so miserable? Because she knew she couldn’t fire them or report them, else she’d lose her income, so she did the only thing she could? Acted like a complete spoiled brat to make them leave of their own volition.
“Got a good feeling about you, though,” Eric said.
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because you looked like you wanted to take her over your knee to teach her some manners when she was rude to you back there.”
“I did,” I admitted.
He didn’t need to know that it wasn’t in a parental way. That if I was going to have Scarlet over my knee, she was going to have her skirt hiked up, and her bare ass right there for me to give a good spanking to, watching her skin go pink as the slaps kept landing, feeling her pussy get wet as…
Fuck.
No.
I had to stop letting my mind go there.
This was a job.
And I was going to keep my damn hands to myself.
“You know where we’re going?” I asked, since Scarlet hadn’t actually spoken to him.
“Miss Chandelier texts me her plans. She and her friends are going to Click to start their evening.”
“On average, how many places does she go to on a night out?”
“Two or three, typically. Sometimes less if it is a new club. But two or three seems average.”
“Let me guess, we will be out until three or later.”
“That sounds about right,” he agreed, sounding apologetic. Then, at my silence, he added, “You’ll get used to it.”
I didn’t want to get used to it.
But it seemed as though there would be no choice in the matter as the town car pulled up to the curb in front of Click.
The line wrapped down around the corner of the block. Men in suits. Girls in barely-there dresses and no coats or sweaters to fight the early spring chill.
None of this looked appealing to me.
Eric was out of the car before I could think to move, rushing around the car to open the door for Scarlet as I finally climbed out myself.
I peeked in the backseat to find Scarlet staring forward, gaze seeming far away, face blank.
“Scarlet!” a voice called.
And just like that, I watched a transformation take over her.
A big, fake smile plastered on her face as she climbed out of the car. She flashed that smile to a trio of women waiting on the sidewalk.
There I found a tall, thin blonde in a tight red dress that let her hipbones stick out. Beside her was a shorter Black woman with long braids, and a bright orange dress that would have looked absurd on anyone else. And, finally, a pixie-cut brunette wearing wide leg trousers and an oversized blazer completed the trio. Like she was coming from work… and didn’t know what size she actually wore.
“There she is!” the blonde cheered, arms out toward Scarlet, then grabbed her wrists and forced air kisses to her cheeks.
“Fashionably late, as always,” the pixie-cut chick said, and I couldn’t help but think there was a hint of disdain in her voice.