Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I look at myself again.
Pretty amazing. Now I look like I’ve had a good night’s sleep.
I shed my wrinkled clothing and don the shirt, tying the blue tie in a perfect Windsor. Next, the pants, suspenders, and jacket, and then the shoes and socks.
Another glance in the mirror.
I look the part—an intellectual businessman who’s on top of everything.
Now I just have to act the part…on no sleep.
I leave the office, and Anthony pushes a cup of coffee into my hand.
I murmur my thanks and head to the conference room. Dimitri Stamos, who heads up the New York office of Black, Inc., is already there, looking his part as well, his brown eyes wide and redness free.
“Braden,” he says, “how are you feeling?”
“Like I got run over by a tank, but I’ll deal.” I gulp down some coffee.
“Yeah, me too.” Dimitri nods. “But I think we’re in good shape. We should be able to make this work.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears.” I take a seat next to Dimitri.
The large computer monitor—it looks like a giant flat-screen TV—hangs from the wall across from us. Anthony sits next to me, out of the view of the camera, ready to hand me everything I need. Dimitri’s assistant takes the seat next to him.
“Ben’s not coming?” Dimitri says.
“Tomorrow if need be. I’m hoping you and I can get this done now. How about Lizzie?”
“Same,” he says. “She’s on call in case we need her, but I feel pretty good about things.”
I nod. “I’m glad you do.”
“Are you worried?”
I inhale. “Not overly, but the timing has me troubled. Right in the middle of the McCain deal. Something stinks.”
Dimitri opens his mouth—
“Two minutes,” Anthony says. “The interpreters have checked in. You need anything else?”
I finish the coffee and take a sip of the water that sits next to the documents in front of me. I shuffle through them. “Everything looks in order.”
I close my eyes for my sixty seconds of silence.
I breathe in and out deeply and clear my mind.
And I manifest.
I visualize my desired outcome and program myself to do everything necessary to achieve it.
I open my eyes.
“Let’s roll.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
I’m on a fucking adrenaline high.
The meeting took a lot of energy and several rounds of negotiation, but Dimitri and I made it happen. Our parts will be manufactured and distributed on schedule, thanks to some business sleight of hand on my part.
Once we’re off camera, I grab Dimitri in a bear hug.
“I’m not sure how you pulled that off, Braden,” he says to me.
“I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re the perfect good cop to my bad cop.”
“Glad to play the part,” he says. “Do you need anything else? Because if not, I have an urgent meeting with my bed.”
“We’re good,” I say. “Thanks, D.”
“That’s my job.” He rises, and a yawn splits his face. “Are you staying in the city?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know. I still need to hammer out the last touches on the McCain deal, but I’ve been doing that from Boston. Just some language tweaking. Ken Akers and one of the attorneys have some issues.”
“Right. Let me know if you need anything.” He grins. “Tomorrow.”
“Got it.”
If I need Dimitri again today, he’ll be there. But we both need to take some time after the grueling six-hour middle-of-the-night negotiations with three separate distribution facilities.
Damn.
The sun has risen now, and it’s—I check my watch—after eleven a.m.
What a whirlwind twenty-four hours.
I loosen my tie and leave the conference room. “Tell everyone to go home,” I say to Anthony. “You’ll all have a little appreciation in your next checks.”
Anthony smiles. “Thank you. Will you be in the Manhattan office later today?”
“I have no idea. I’ll let you know.”
“Good enough,” he says.
I nod and head through the door to the living area of my penthouse. Is Skye awake yet? She didn’t sleep on the short plane ride, so she may very well still be in bed.
In which case…
I head straight to the bedroom.
The bed is rumpled…and no Skye.
I head back to the kitchen. A pot of coffee is made, so I pour myself a cup and take a few sips.
Now to find Skye.
I walk back toward my bedroom.
Aha. The door to my library is open.
I love having a library at all my residences. Books are a passion of mine, and I don’t have the time to read as much as I’d like to. Still, I love being surrounded by books, especially special-edition classics, with their spicy leather-and-parchment scent. But I have other books as well—books that appeal to my darker tastes.
I peek into the room, and—
I suppress a groan as my cock—as exhausted as I am—comes to life.
Skye is clad in a silk robe from my closet, and she’s sitting on the floor with a book lying open.
The Art of Bondage.
Damn.
The book is open to a black-and-white photo of a woman naked and on her knees. She’s bound with ivory jute rope. Her ankles are tied together as well as her thighs, and her shoulders and arms are also bound, leading to her wrists, which are between her bound thighs and out of view.