Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 48032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
“I said, bosses don’t typically expect their new employee to start a new job within hours.”
“This isn’t a typical job.”
“I’m sensing that.” She bites her bottom lip. “I would like some details first.”
Of course you would.
I check my watch. “Invite me inside and we can talk about it.”
“You can tell me right here.”
“Inside would be better.”
“You’re the one who wants me to do something for you, Ryder,” she says, defiant. “I have the upper hand.”
“Is that so?” I smile at her, and her cheeks flush red.
I’m not used to anyone pushing back on my requests, and if she were anyone else, this conversation would’ve ended long ago.
“I’m aware that you temporarily have the ‘upper hand,’ Autumn,” I say, noticing her nipples hardening through her blouse. “Hence why I’m telling you to invite me inside, so I can happily re-balance things between us before you start working under me.”
“It doesn’t sound like you’re referring to ‘talking’ at all right now.”
“I’m not.”
Silence.
She grabs the door handle, but her eyes suddenly widen and she pulls it shut.
“Is there someone else in your house?” I ask.
“No, it’s—” She shakes her head. “I don’t want you to see my place right now.”
“And why is that?”
“It’s messy.”
“It was messy when I came in the other night.”
“I mean, it’s messier.” She clears her throat. “Far messier.”
I can tell she’s lying, but I let it go.
“Okay, Autumn,” I say, running my fingers through her hair, sensing that she’s done resisting for now. “I’ll send a car to pick you up in two hours. Same terms I mentioned earlier apply. Do I need to remind you?”
“Black dress and a bag for the weekend,” she says. “Bail money, optional.”
“You’re not going to jail, Autumn.”
“What if I don’t own a black dress?”
“I’ll take you shopping.” I slide my hand down to her neck, and a soft moan escapes her lips. “Do I need to do that?”
“No…” She shakes her head. “I was just wondering.”
“Let me know if that ever changes.” I step back. “It’s a dark grey Mercedes AMG, and the driver shouldn’t say anything except ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ to you.”
“Noted.” She looks as if she wants to say something more, but she holds back.
Stealing one last glance at her face, I return to my car and slide behind the wheel. I speed out of the parking lot and head toward my estate before I can reconsider things.
She’s definitely going to be a problem.
When I pull onto the highway, I call my lawyer.
“Yes, Mr. Rochester?” he answers before it can fully ring.
“When will the funds from Miss Jane’s divorce be made available to her?”
“Standard time,” he says. “Ninety days or less. The luxury car will be returned to her by that time, as well. I’m working on the title transfer and the other things you requested.”
“And the divorce is final?”
“Yes, sir. One hundred percent.”
“Good.” I switch lanes.
“Is that why you called me, sir?”
“No, I need you to represent someone who’s doing a side project for me,” I say. “He’s been slightly sloppy about hiding his face, and he didn’t get around to disabling a security system in time.” I pause for a few seconds. “He’ll be hit with some unfortunate charges, I’m sure, but I don’t want him to serve a single second behind bars or suffer a blemish on his record. Are we clear?”
“I already handled the, uh…” His voice trembles. “The guy who assaulted Miss Jane’s previous lawyer. He’s all clear.”
“This is a different guy.” I check the time on my dashboard, mentally calculating when Nate Taylor will pull into his garage and come closer than ever to serving his time in Hell.
I’m not usually a fan of violence—especially not with someone I’ve shared a dinner or two with before—but I can’t let him walk around unpunished.
I’ll also never understand how he could ever let a woman like Autumn slip through his hands.
“It won’t happen until half an hour from now,” I tell him. “You’ll need to work fast so this incident doesn’t make it to a detective’s desk.”
“I can’t cover up a murder, sir.”
“It’s not a murder,” I say. “The victim will probably wish it was, though.”
“Sir, please…”
“Call me when you’ve fixed it, or don’t call me back at all.”
He takes several deep breaths, hyperventilating as if this is his first day working under me. As if this is the worst case he’s ever handled on my behalf.
This is child’s play…
“We’ve reached the part of the conversation where you agree to the job and thank me, so that I can hang up and return to my life,” I say. “I’m not a patient person, as you know.”
“I, uh…” His breathing sounds even more erratic now. “The job is great, and I agree to thank you, Mr. Rochester.”
Close enough.
End of Episode 17
Episode 18
Ryder
Two Hours Later
Sheets of rain fall over the tarmac, coating the private planes in a fresh shade of Seattle’s wet weather.