Loving The Enemy Read online Jordan Silver

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Billionaire, Funny, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 55093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
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It sure sounded good when we were in the plotting stage but now seemed so juvenile. “How’s he supposed to hear about it anyway? Didn’t you say he was in Arizona?” She scares me with the things she can do. Most people believe that if you have money you can do anything, find out anything about anyone at the drop of a hat. Not true!

Well in most cases it isn’t, but in Simone’s it’s pretty darn accurate. Her daddy lets her have her way in almost everything, and she uses his resources to get whatever her little heart desires. I don’t think it had taken her an hour to hunt Storm down. At least I’d talked her out of making me go after him. The girl is nuts.

“There’ll be photographers here remember. We’ll just have to make sure he sees you and reads all about tonight. I hope some hot young thing bids on you.” Oh she thought this was fun. My glare had no affect on her whatsoever, she just brushed it off and started fiddling with my hair. At least he won’t be in the audience when I make a complete fool of myself.

JASON

It’s been almost a week since I’ve been gone. A week in which I was ostensibly supposed to be getting my head on straight. I decided to put everything back there out of my mind for now, clear my head and look at things from a different angle. The plan was to get lost in the takeover I was undertaking, which shouldn’t be hard since I always go all in when I’m getting my grip on a new company.

I hadn’t been gone two days before I started getting these strange messages from an unknown number. At first I thought it was her, but the verbiage was way different, though similar in some ways. At first the little cryptic messages made no sense and I was tempted to ignore them or even go so far as to block the number, but there was an underlying tone to each that sounded almost as if the person knew me.

I gave some thought to it being an ex fling but none of the women I knew would do this, and besides the number was not one I recognized. The hints were too broad to pinpoint any one thing in particular, but they were beginning to sound more and more like someone knew what was going on between Emily and I.

Emily, I can’t count how many times I picked up the phone to call her and put it away again. The first night I had to look at a photo of her just so I could get some sleep. The fact that I missed her enough to feel the pain in my gut should’ve been answer enough, but I’ve never been known to do shit the easy way.

By day three I was damn near a wreck and it showed. I was short tempered when I’m known for being cool under pressure. Things that I would normally let slide in the day to day rigors of business, got under my skin. By day four I wasn’t fit for company. And that’s when the shit hit the fan.

I’d almost decided that my new phone buddy was the friend I’d met the night I took her out. I couldn’t quite place her name. My mind had been so full of Emily that night I would be hard pressed to remember her friend’s face if she was standing right in front of me. But I had finally caught wind of the style in which she wrote, which was pretty much the way she spoke.

Then day four came. I was almost ready to sign on the dotted line. The business didn’t hold much interest for me; it was just an excuse I needed to get away at this point in my life. Or more to the point, the interest had waned once I realized I’d have to be here for an extended period of time, which would mean being away from her.

I’d begun to accept that I was fighting a losing battle, that for the first time in my life I was running away from something; and then it happened. Instead of the usual text, which I have to admit I’d started looking forward to. Always some old adage that I guess was meant to make me look deep into my soul and find myself or whatever new age crap they were pushing these days, there was a photo.

I didn’t quite grasp what I was looking at-at first. I knew it was her, and I, but I couldn’t…. and then it hit me. One of the many photographers there that night must’ve taken it when I was busy seducing her in the darkened corner of the club. I’d left town the next morning and hadn’t seen the local headlines.


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