Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“It keeps your mind off Dad. I know. It’s fine, you brat,” I tell her.
My big little sister comes up behind me and gives me a quick hug. “Can I hold the pup?”
Brock nods. “Just be careful. If it seems like he’s panting too much, tell me.” He hands her the dog like it’s an overgrown baby.
I smile. “You’re one protective dog father.”
“I’m no dog father. Andy’s my best friend.”
Andy yowls his agreement.
“Your best friend is a dog?” I say, still laughing.
Well, that explains a lot. I’m not surprised a grumpmuffin prefers nonhuman company.
“In his younger years, he’d travel with me often. This dog has more hours on planes than some pilots,” Brock says proudly. “Now, with the asthma, he usually hangs back in good care when I’m busy.”
“Adorable!” I’m still about to fall right over at the fact that Brock damn Winthrope is an animal person. Who knew?
My phone vibrates against my hip. I grab it from my pocket.
Please don’t be the hospital.
Nope. Just a text from Jenn.
Jenn: Hi, are you okay? I heard you left Seattle with Mr. Unnameable. Some emergency?
Piper: Dad’s in the hospital again. Sorry, it’s been hectic and I didn’t think to text you. Brock got his private jet to take me back early.
Her response is immediate. How’s he holding up? I’m so sorry, Piper.
Piper: He’s okay for now. I’ll call you later.
I drop the phone back in my pocket and lean toward Brock’s ear. “So, not to worry you, but I think everyone else is on the way home from Chicago right now...and our absence was noticed.”
“Don’t worry. I told Keenan what was going on before we left. He’ll handle it,” he says with total confidence. “Let me show you girls around the house.”
Fyo comes in with the rest of our bags.
I turn to face him. “Sorry. I forgot we had so much stuff in the trunk. I would have brought it in myself.”
The big man smiles and shakes his head, glancing at Brock. “Guest wing or your wing?”
Wing? His house has entire wings?
I should be screaming, but I still can’t get over the weenie dog, who’s sniffing my feet now.
“See? That’s so Emma,” Maisy squeaks, yanking on my shoulder.
Dang. I’ve really got to get her back into soccer to burn off some energy.
Brock looks at me. “My wing would make it easier for us to work together. I assume Miss Maisy is old enough to pick her own room?”
I nod.
“Good. I’ll take the bags up, Fyo,” he tells his driver.
“Wait.” I rush after him. “We can do that ourselves—”
“Let me.” Brock cuts me off, lumbering toward the grandest elevator I’ve ever seen in a house—actually, I’ve never seen an elevator in a house at all—before I can say anything. “You can follow us up, so you know your way around,” he throws back.
O-kay then.
I shrug and follow him with Maisy and a bouncing Andouille trailing behind me.
So much for focusing on work.
I keep checking my phone with my stomach in knots to see if the hospital called or even Dad himself. Neither happens by evening the next day.
Maisy is so enchanted with her room she’s much happier. The entire place, really, and the dog is just the icing on her Mr. Darcy fantasies.
Her private bathroom is bigger than any room in our own house. There’s a small dressing room in front of the closet.
Andy hasn’t emerged since he followed her back inside after breakfast, and Fyo brought her a new TV and a laptop.
I’m so never living this down.
Not when my boss slash dirty secret is spoiling my little sister with goods that are going to make her head bigger than a hot air balloon.
I owe it to him to try to work—however insanely elusive it seems.
We’re sitting in his library-like office for what seems like hours, but it’s unproductive. Without Jenn, I can only slog through so much, picking at old ads and ideas for video shorts that’ll make Winthrope more than its trash reviews.
I check my phone again and sigh.
“That’s the eleventh time,” he growls suddenly.
I jump in my seat.
“You don’t have to push yourself so hard, Piper. Take breaks. Don’t let the worries swallow you,” he says.
Of course, in his royal-blue button-down shirt and a pair of reading glasses I’ve never seen before, he looks every bit like a hot professor.
Not helpful.
“We’re on a deadline,” I say.
“Are we? I’ll let your tyrant boss know you need a break.”
I shake my head. “He won’t care. He’s kind of a big dick, and I always meet my deadlines.”
“He’ll appreciate you for remembering the big dick,” he says, trying not to smile. “And I know you take deadlines seriously, but it’s okay to be human. You’ve got a lot on your mind. I’d rather have you working efficiently than rushing through this.”
“I’ll do a good job. I’ve got this.”