Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
The difference is mine will never be revealed, whereas I can easily get yours, assuming the price offered by your enemy is right and the scales of justice appeal to my personal standards of ethics. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. The thing that’s not so easy for a shy guy like me? Finding Ms. Right and locking her down.
Speaking of Ms. Right, the very night I was set up with Hannah Milliken by our mutual friend, I knew I’d one day kneel before her with a ring in hand. Hannah’s the kind of girl who’ll gleefully dance like a gorilla with me in the coolest nightclub or belt out a karaoke duet from Grease like her very life depends on it. She’s gorgeous, too. Funny and smart. And she even wears librarian glasses. See? Perfect.
I don’t doubt Hannah’s the one for me. Indubitably, she is. I only wonder how a dork like me could possibly land a goddess like her.
Unfortunately, when catastrophe strikes, all my questions are rendered moot. Now that Hannah knows the truth about me not actually working in cybersecurity—as well as the questionable things I’ve done to win her over—will I lose my dream girl forever, or is there still a chance for us to chase our happily ever after?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PLAYLIST
“Birdhouse in Your Soul”—They Might Be Giants
1
HANNAH
“Hi, Hannah Banana Montana Milliken!” Kat Morgan says brightly, answering my call.
Kat’s my co-worker turned bestie who’s been MIA from our Seattle office this past week while slaving away on a new VIP client account in Las Vegas. Or at least, that’s what our hawk-eyed boss thinks Kat’s been doing. Snicker.
In reality, my blonde bombshell of a bestie has been playing hooky with a young, hot billionaire—a handsome playboy who took one look at Kat’s gorgeous vivacity and apparently decided, “I want to play with her.” Lucky for Josh Faraday, he was exactly Kat’s type—hot, funny, and cocky as hell. And so, the glittering pair jetted off to the Neon Capital of the World for a couple days of carefree fun.
After a few days, though, when Kat informed her billionaire fling she had to return to Seattle or risk getting shitcanned, he picked up the phone and “hired” Kat for an “urgent PR job” in Las Vegas—all expenses paid and at Kat’s premium rate—thereby ensuring the continuation of their fun without the possibility of Kat suffering any adverse employment consequences.
I’ve been picking up the slack on Kat’s real accounts in her absence, but I’m not salty about it, since Kat’s done countless favors for me since joining the firm almost two years ago. Frankly, I’m relieved to finally get the chance to repay her. Plus, the chances are nil I’ll ever get to enjoy a scorching-hot fling with a young, hot billionaire, so I’ve thoroughly enjoyed living vicariously through my party-girl bestie this past week.
“Hey there, Kitty Kat,” I say, pressing my phone against my ear. “Sorry to bother you, but I’ve run into a snag on the barbeque account.” I explain the issue, and, not surprisingly, Kat offers a creative suggestion I hadn’t contemplated, which we then build upon together to reach a kick-ass solution for our client.
When the work portion of our conversation is done, I lower my voice and ask, “So, are you still having a blast with Mr. Faraday?” I’ve googled the hell out of one Joshua William Faraday of Faraday & Sons, and it’s not hard to see why Kat is currently feeling infatuated with him. Dark hair. Blazing blue eyes. An insanely fit body paired with a cocky grin. With all that going for him, Josh would be Kat’s exact type even before adding in his insane wealth—but, of course, the guy being filthy rich and wildly successful on top of everything else certainly doesn’t hurt.
“Yeah, I am, as a matter of fact,” Kat replies calmly.
I wait, but she doesn’t elaborate. It’s so unlike my loose lipped, vivacious friend to answer with such calm brevity, it can only mean one thing. I whisper, “He’s there and can overhear you?”
“Actually, yeah, he is,” Kat replies evenly. But when she adds a little “gah!” to the end of her sentence, I know exactly what she’s trying to tell me: She finally gave in to her white-hot lust and banged the billionaire.
When we spoke a few days ago, Kat still hadn’t slept with Josh, despite her extreme desire to do so, because, she said, he’d surely lose interest on a bullet train if she jumped into bed with him too quickly. During that phone call, Kat explained, “Someone needs to teach that gorgeous, arrogant man he can’t have whatever and whomever he wants with a snap of his fancy fingers—and that someone is going to be me.” At the time, Kat conceded it would take superhuman willpower on her part to resist Josh for much longer. But, she insisted, she was up to the challenge—determined to abstain for the higher purpose of keeping Josh’s attention for as long as possible.
“You had sex with Josh?” I whisper, even though Kat’s little “gah!” pretty much confirmed as much.
Kat giggles. “Yesssssss.”
I squeal, a bit too loudly for my small cubicle, and then glance toward the hallway, praying I haven’t unwittingly attracted our strict boss’s attention. Rebecca is a likeable woman outside of the office, but when we’re on the clock, she runs a tight ship and doesn’t suffer a modicum of bullshit. When it’s clear our boss isn’t nearby, I return excitedly to my call with Kat. “And was the sex a five-alarm fire, like you predicted?”
“More,” Kat breathes, elongating the vowel sound in a way that sounds vaguely orgasmic.
“Katherine Morgan!” I whisper-shout as my cheeks bloom to crimson. “Leave some cookies for the rest of the class!” As Kat cackles with glee, I add, “Please, tell me the hot billionaire has a hot friend for me.” It’s my usual joke—other than the billionaire part—the joke I always make when Kat regales me with spicy stories about her dating life. Thanks to almost two years’ worth of daily lunches, Kat knows I adore hearing every detail of her dating adventures, especially given my own two-year dating drought.