Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Stop lying to me,” I bite out as quietly as I can. “It makes no sense that you’d be staying in an apartment like this and working as a housekeeper. It doesn’t add up.”
She gives a one-shouldered shrug. “So?” she whispers.
“Make it make sense,” I urge, trying to keep my voice as low as possible, while at the same time, fighting the urge to trail my fingers over her cheek and down her neck.
Her eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips, like she’s having the same filthy thoughts I am. “Why?” she mumbles. “I don’t owe you anything.”
Her words snap me out of my trance.
“You’re a liar,” I hiss into her ear and turn to leave. She’s right that I can’t make her explain herself. It’s absolutely infuriating. I’ll get one of my team to surveil her. There’s nothing she can do, no one she can call, without me knowing about it from now on.
“I haven’t lied about anything,” she calls after me, risking the wrath of her neighbor. “I’m working here for the summer. Just because my family is rich and has a fancy apartment doesn’t make me a liar.”
I stop and stalk back to her. I don’t need to attract any more attention to myself at the moment. “So why didn’t you tell me you were working in the hotel?” I whisper-shout.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were staying in the hotel? Did you want to get into my flat for some reason? What are you hiding?” She steps forward and jabs her finger into my chest. I glance down and she withdraws her hand. I’ve never hate-fucked a woman before, but I’m starting to understand the appeal.
The fact is, I’m staying at the hotel because I am hiding. So why didn’t she tell me she was working there?
“We’re not talking about me.” My voice is low, but I’m not whispering.
“I am. Why would you want to waste time going to my place when we could have taken the lift to yours?” She transfers her weight from hip to hip, and I try not to notice the way her entire body moves so gracefully. “Make that make sense! Maybe you hang out at the hotel bar every night and pick up a different woman, and maybe it feels kinda icky to be fucking three thousand different women in the same bed.”
“Or maybe I just want to leave when I want,” I rally. “There are a thousand reasons to want to go to your place.”
“The thing is, I don’t really care. You didn’t tell me about the hotel room. So what? I didn’t tell you that today I’m due to start a summer job at the hotel—”
“Not just a summer job. A summer job servicing my room.”
She gasps in exasperation. “I had no idea which department I would be working in. You think I personally passed around a vomiting bug to the housekeeping staff so they’d be short-staffed, guaranteeing I’d be assigned to fill the gaps? Then—what? I used my mind control techniques to make sure I was assigned your room? Have you heard yourself? You need a therapist. Or a holiday. Or both.”
I push my hands through my hair, exasperated at the way she has an answer for everything. “Why on earth do you need to do housekeeping at The Avenue when your family clearly has money?”
She puts her hand on her hip like I’ve just asked her a personal question I had no right to. She’s not wrong. “First, it’s none of your business. Second, I don’t have money. Not yet. Thirdly, my brother-in-law—or my sister’s brother-in-law? I keep meaning to find out if that makes him my brother-in-law or not. Anyway, Nathan used to work with Gretel, the manager of The Avenue, and he put us in touch. I wanted to have some fun this summer. I just graduated. Wanted a job I didn’t have to think too much about so I could keep myself busy and… you know… hang out in New York.” Her voice starts to rise as she speaks and someone starts banging on the wall. Do they know they’re in New York City and not Connecticut? I might have to buy this building and evict whoever it is for being an asshole. “I figured there are other opportunities here too. I’m just figuring shit out. I’m twenty-one. I’m allowed to be figuring stuff out.”
I sigh. I’m a good people reader. I can sniff out a charlatan, a liar, a cheat a thousand miles away. Efa isn’t who I’ve accused her of being.
“So it’s coincidence that you turned up in my hotel suite today?” I ask, my voice returning to normal. It’s not a question. I’m sure she’s telling the truth. It’s just a hell of a coincidence.
“New York’s a small place, I guess. But is it? Because I was there last night checking things out before I started work. You were at the hotel bar where you were staying… picking up chicks to bang. It’s not that big of a coincidence.”