Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
The way her hand felt in mine, I want to feel that again. Her shy smile, I want to kiss it off her mouth then give it back to her.
Her lilac-colored dress, I want to rip it from her body.
“I need a second,” I say, turning to walk away.
The head of the Houston team steps into my path. His arms are wrapped around two of the escorts’ waists as distain has me clenching my fists.
“Jackson, I’m in awe of your hospitality. You really have planned everything. We drink, we talk business, and then we go to bed with our goody-bags.” He looks to the escort at his left with a lecherous grin.
I glare at Francois. Leaning close to me, his voice drops to a whisper. “Look, I'm sorry. Please just give them thirty minutes.”
“You said we were going back to the office after the bar. This doesn’t look like a goddamn business meeting.”
Francois sighs, rubbing his temples. “These guys specifically asked for women.”
I shake my head in distaste. “If this is how they want to do business, fuck them.”
I’m ready to tell them the deal is off when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Francois starts to speak, but I cut him off with a glare as I reach inside my jacket for my phone. It’s my personal cell, and only five people have this number: my parents, my PI, my attorney and my housekeeper.
The five people I trust with my life.
For a second, I panic that it might be my mom with bad news about my dad. A recent fall left him with a broken hip and that led to pneumonia from lying in bed, recovering. It’s been a downhill slide for months and he’s teetering on that place between rallying in the right direction or giving up and letting the slippery slope take him.
I hired my own army of medical personnel to get him back on track, but I always hold my breath waiting for that dreaded call. But when I hold the phone up, I see that it’s Isabella, my lawyer.
I’ve got a lot of legal shit going on right now, so I know what it’s probably about, but her strategizing can wait a few hours.
Francois doesn’t yet know about the bogus sexual harassment suits that are suddenly looming against me. I’ve not discussed it with anyone other than Isabella, hoping we can squash the bullshit before it becomes public knowledge.
Standing here in this bar with escorts—escorts who, apparently, somehow my company paid for—will not help my cause.
“Jackson, we need to get this deal.”
Francois is right. I need that piece of land. There is no other place like it in Houston and it fits my expansion plans perfectly. But Chastity…
A rush of adrenaline bolts through me as I spot a flash of lavender in the sea of people.
Then my heart sinks when it’s not her.
This girl is blonde.
I have developed a sudden distaste for blondes. I know who I want. I’ve found my girl and she’s no blonde. In fact, it was a blonde that took her from me.
Francois leans next to my ear. “Don’t walk out and offend them now. We’ve got so much invested. If you fuck this up, it’s not just you that will lose.”
I don’t give a flying fuck.
I want to yell it out. Instead, seething, I face the men and force a stiff smile.
In a way, I owe them.
If they weren’t tardy, whoremongering narcissists, who wanted to meet in a fucking bar I’d never have met Chastity.
I take a deep breath, resolving to finish the business at hand in as short an order as possible.
But all I’m really thinking about is her.
I’ll find her. Even if it’s the last thing I do.
CHAPTER 2
CHASTITY
Diary Entry Six PM Today
Dear Diary,
I will probably be too tired to write when I get home. Another Friday night out with Sasha and the work crew. I’m not looking forward to it. I don’t even know why I go.
I think sometimes Sasha is so nice to me or is my ‘friend’ because when I’m next to her, I make her look even better.
Even at work. She’s taken lots of my ideas already and made them out to be hers. Oh well, that’s not a “poor me” moment, it’s just an observation, but what is more telling is this: why do I hang out with her if that’s what I think? I need to re-boot myself or something.
I rushed home from work to change clothes, and I need to get way back over to The Trojan Horse in Mid-town. Just paying the Uber every time we go out puts a huge dent in my woeful bank balance. I bet if I had a Daddy, he’d give me a stern talking to about letting people take advantage of me. He’d make sure I understood my own worth and when I faltered, he’d be there to shore me up. Probably a little punishment as well to keep me on track.