Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Most of the Crompton workers leave over the next ten minutes. But there are a couple tables over by the bar where people are huddled around their drinks, talking in hushed voices. Every now and then one of them glances over at me, and every now and then one of them glances at Kate.
I chuckle to myself and focus on the menu.
Kate returns to my table with a tequila and her pad.
“Thanks,” I say as she places the drink on the coaster. She still doesn’t look at me. “How was your get-together?”
“What can I get you?” she says, ignoring my question.
“I’ll have the rib eye. Medium rare. With a side of broccoli.”
“That’s a lot of protein. Broccoli has more than people realize.” Then she screws up her face and mutters, “Bloody hell,” under her breath like she’s pissed she spoke to me.
“I didn’t know broccoli is a big protein source,” I reply, smiling at her.
“Well, you do now.” She shrugs, plucks the menu out of my hand and spins back to the bar.
I pull out my phone to check my emails, but before I have a chance to open my inbox, a couple of the junior gardeners wander over to the table. I’m not sure of their names—I think the tall, lanky one is Amarjit, but even if I were a betting man, which I’m not, it’s not a bet I would take. “Evening,” the one who’s definitely not Amarjit says.
I pick up my tequila and raise it in his direction.
“Just so you know, most of us think you being here’s a good thing,” Probably-Amarjit says. “Some people might not want to admit it, but it was time for the earl to sell. I don’t think his heart is in it anymore.”
“His bank balance definitely wasn’t,” the other one says. “A hotel will be good. Take a while though. What’s going to happen to us in the meantime?”
“It will happen fast for a renovation of this size. I have no patience for anything else. Twelve months from start to finish.”
“Twelve months,” Amarjit says, obviously surprised. He doesn’t realize this is a fraction of the time it would ordinarily take a project like this to be completed.
“That’s not such a long time. Much of the landscaping will need to be maintained. Training for new roles will need to take place. And if I have some willing helpers, there will be other interim roles that will need filling.”
“I’m up for it,” Not-Amarjit says.
“Good,” I say.
“Like we said, most people are in favor.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.”
“I told Kate there was no way you were going to be convinced just to keep it as a country house for you and your family,” Amarjit says.
I try not to let my surprise show. Why would she think that was an option? And what family? She must know I’m not married—we slept together. “You’re right. There’s no convincing me of that.”
“Well, whatever you need from us, Vince. Just let us know.”
“Not calling me Vince would be a start. Vincent works just fine.”
Not-Amarjit laughs. “Absolutely, Vincent.”
Amarjit nudges him. “Let’s leave the man in peace.” He lifts his chin at me and waves. “Enjoy your dinner. And don’t let Kate wind you up about the omegas.”
I can’t help but smile at that comment. Kate clearly has everyone’s nutritional requirements in mind.
As if I summoned her, Kate appears with a couple plates of food. She sets everything down without looking at me.
“Mustard?” she asks, still avoiding my gaze.
“That would be lovely.”
When she returns with the trio of mustards, I dip to try and meet her gaze.
“You know, you thought I was charming when you first met me,” I say, reaching for a jar of the whole grain. She hasn’t brought me a spoon, but as I move to stand, she turns and heads back over to the cash register, where additional flatware is stored. She returns with three teaspoons.
“Thanks,” I say, beaming up at her.
She puts her hand on her hip. “When I first met you, you weren’t my boss. And you weren’t evicting me.”
I can taste bitterness on my tongue—not fresh, like it was for so long, but dulled around the edges. Almost like the memory of bitterness. “I’m not destroying—”
“And I didn’t find you charming,” she says. “I had an itch. And you were available to scratch it.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Well, I’m very happy to have scratched your itch for you. I don’t mind at all that you just used me for my body.” I want to add, “Use me again anytime,” but I don’t. She’s upset and she’s right—I’m her boss now.
“I was serious when I asked you to come see the plans we’ve had drawn up for Crompton House. You can see for yourself how things are going to look. There’s a mock-up video tour. And you can have a tour of the house as it is now, so you can see the kind of investment we’re committing to the property.”