Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“Uhhh no. Are you not in Michigan right now?”
“Not even close,” I say. “The label sent a private jet to come get me, and I’ve spent the last four hours sipping champagne and being waited on while I made the journey to LA!”
“L—FREAKING—A?” Madds squeals, probably way too loudly for her office building. “Holy fucking shit. Girl, why didn’t you start with that? We have to do something. How long are you going to be here?”
“I have no idea. If everything goes well with this meeting, I could be here indefinitely . . . I think. But if it doesn’t, then probably just the night.”
“Okay, well, for what it’s worth, I know you’re going to kill it at this meeting today. This is the most exciting thing ever, and you might even get to see Rock and Dylan and—” she cuts herself off before the name slips out of her mouth, and I’m grateful that she doesn’t linger on the almost slip. “Anyway, I think we should meet up tonight, you know, just in case walking in there is too much and you need time to chill afterward.”
“Absolutely.”
“What hotel are you staying at?”
“Is it bad I never actually asked?” I laugh. “Lenny said private jet, and I got in my car without a second thought.”
“Okay. Well text me when you know, and I can meet you there after work,” she says. “And Rae? You really are gonna kill this. You’re the best choice, and Lenny freaking Davidson would be a fool not to hire you on the spot.”
“Thanks, Madds.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she says, and I can practically hear the way she rolls her eyes. “I have to get back to work before you get my ass fired. I’ll see you tonight, okay? Love you.”
“Love you too,” and with that, the line goes dead.
It’s a short twenty-minute drive from LAX to the hotel, and when the driver pulls up out front, all I can do is gape at the massive building. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s the picture of luxury, exclusive to only the highest caliber people—the one percenters, billionaires, socialites, and celebrities. People like Ezra Knight.
The door opens for me, and someone else moves to grab my bags from the back. I’m almost embarrassed by my shitty canvas bag bought from the mall nearly ten years ago. I’m sure these guys are used to handling designer suitcases that cost more than I’ve made over the past two years, but nonetheless, I hold my head up high and allow the door opener to usher me inside the exclusive hotel.
Checking in takes all of two seconds, and before I know it, I’m escorted up to one of the executive suites. It’s not quite the penthouse, but it’s high enough that the man escorting me needs a special access card just to activate the elevator.
Getting into the room that’s bigger than my family home back in Michigan, I make my way right over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and stare out at the incredible view. The city below is gorgeous, and with the afternoon sun glistening off the other building, I find myself completely mesmerized.
A specially prepared meal is waiting for me on the table, and since I haven’t had the chance to eat like this since the last time I was with Axel, I don’t hesitate to dig in.
I have an hour before I’m due to meet with Lenny, so I take advantage of the time to pamper myself with an everything shower, using the expensive shampoo and conditioner as opposed to the cheap two-in-one shit I’ve been reduced to over the years.
Basking in the endless hot water, I finally have the motivation to shave, but it’s not for Lenny’s benefit of course. Looking my best means feeling my best, and as I stand in the bathroom wrapped in the expensive lush robe provided, I spend a few extra minutes hacking away at my brows.
I feel better than I have in so long, and it’s more refreshing than I could have known. As I pull on the best clean outfit from my bag, I feel as though I’m ready to conquer the world. My eyes hesitate in the mirror before leaving the bathroom, and even though I don’t have the wardrobe for this type of interview, I could walk in there wearing a garbage bag and still bring every bit of confidence. After all, isn’t that what they say? Confidence is key.
There’s a light knock at the door before a voice calls out. “Miss Stone, pardon the interruption, however, it is time to leave.”
Oooh. I wasn’t expecting such detailed service, but I’m down for it. “Coming,” I call back, grabbing my shitty little purse before thinking better of it and just taking my phone instead. I slip it into the back of my jeans, really wishing I had something nicer to wear, but it’s not as though there was time to go on some grand shopping spree with a credit card that doesn’t exist.