Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“Did you?” His eyes darted around the small space like a cornered animal, his voice so strangled I worried he wasn’t getting enough oxygen.
“Wasn’t that what your last email said?” I blinked at him innocently. “Two weeks in Borneo, during which you’d be out of communication? Did you decide to skip the last portion of the trip? Did something happen?”
He nodded slightly and then squeezed his eyes tightly shut. His pulse fluttered frantically against my fingers. For a moment, I was certain he was going to drop the pretense and confess that he wasn’t who he’d claimed to be… but I was wrong.
“Yes, I… I’m afraid I can’t talk about the trip, Bash. It’s too, ah… too fresh. Too painful.” He shook his head sadly. “Another of my quirky billionaire eccentricities. You understand.”
Quirky billionaire eccentricities. This was going to be good.
“I’m your assistant, Mr. Chase,” I said in a low tone, still holding him in place. “You can tell me anything.”
“Oh.” He leaned toward me like he was imparting a secret. I couldn’t help but lean in also. “You see… I lost my true love on the side of Mount Kinababloo.” He sighed gustily. “Poor Bubbles. I really… can’t speak of it any more.”
I shook my head. This man was a liar—an unrepentant liar—and I should have been—was—disgusted. I knew better than anyone on the planet that money attracted con artists, cheats, and opportunists the way nectar attracted bees, and I hated that kind of manipulation.
But Jesus, there was something about this man—maybe how innocently and poorly and entertainingly he lied—that got past my defenses. He was doing an impersonation of a rich person that should have been incredibly insulting but somehow managed to be endearing. And he made me want to see what he came up with next.
“How very tragic—” I began when a deep voice behind me called my name.
“Bash?”
I whipped my head around in surprise to find my friend Silas ducking around the potted plant. He froze in place when he saw that I wasn’t alone and raised a single dark eyebrow at me when he saw Not-Sterling’s hand in mine.
Shit.
I hadn’t expected Silas to attend tonight. He wasn’t based in New York, and though he still served on the board of directors at Sterling Chase, he was also a sought-after business strategist who spent most of his time traveling around the world consulting with Fortune 500 companies and governmental agencies. Ordinarily, seeing one of my best friends would have been cause for celebration. At the moment, however, I was tempted to ask him to turn right the fuck around.
Silas was sensible. Calm. Rational. And I wasn’t being any of those things at the moment.
“Am I interrupting something?” Silas asked. His voice was mild, but the accompanying look he gave me spoke volumes… most of it in italics with exclamation points.
“Of course not, Mr. Concannon.” I widened my eyes meaningfully. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. Are you enjoying your evening, sir?”
Silas’s head tilted to one side, a very clear What game are we playing, Sebastian?
I smiled winningly. Go with it.
“Oh, yes, it’s been delightful,” Silas said at length. “I’m on a mission to make sure every member of the Sterling Chase board of directors in attendance shakes the hand of at least fifty millionaires for networking purposes. I’ve done my part, but you’d be shocked at how many of them hide away or find themselves otherwise distracted at these events.”
I nearly snorted. I’d been the only member of the board in attendance before Silas showed up, which meant Kenji, the personal assistant who ruled our lives, had sent Silas here to make sure I didn’t cut out early or hide away.
It was uncomfortable to be known so well.
Silas glanced at Not-Sterling’s hand in mine once again. “How’s your evening, Bash?”
“Unbelievable.” Literally. “I finally got to meet my boss after being his personal assistant for weeks and weeks.” I drew a very reluctant Not-Sterling forward a few feet, presenting him to Silas. “Sterling Chase, this is Silas Concannon. Mr. Concannon, I’m sure you remember Sterling Chase? Since you’re on the board of directors at his company?”
Silas blinked. He looked at me, then down at Not-Sterling’s name tag. At our linked hands, then Not-Sterling’s rabbit bow tie and Christmas socks. I could practically see the neurons firing in his brilliant brain as Silas assessed the situation. Then he extended a hand for Not-Sterling to shake. “No, we’ve never met in person, strangely enough.”
Not-Sterling nodded, like the idea of a company’s owner never meeting the people who served on his own board of directors didn’t faze him in the slightest.
Silas’s smile was a sharp-edged thing. “I somehow pictured you with more hair, Sterling.”
I coughed to cover my laugh, envisioning the same Peruvian guinea pig Silas was.
Not-Sterling pulled away from me so he could shake Silas’s hand, and I stuck my suddenly empty fingers in my pocket before they could reach for him again.