Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I slip my hand to her back, trying to offer some reassurance, even though she doesn’t need it. My friends will make her feel comfortable. “Worth is as good as it gets, so if you don’t like him, you’re in for a shitty evening.”
“If you can put up with him,” Worth says, nodding in my direction, “I’m going to be like a dream come true.”
Jules grins and pulls Worth in for a hug. “So nice to meet you,” she says.
“And you. Thank you for doing this for Leo. It’s a big ask.”
She turns to me, her head tilting in consideration. “Oh, it’s not so bad,” she says.
“I beg to differ,” Worth says. “Leo says you’ve taken over at The Mayfair. You need to make sure he’s not underpaying you.”
She laughs. “Oh, I’m all over that, don’t you worry.”
The door buzzer goes again and this time it’s Bennett and Efa. I asked him to bring her, partly because I thought it would be nice for Jules to have a little female company, and I’m pretty sure the two of them will get on. But also… Efa sussed out Nadia quicker than I did. It’s not like I don’t trust Jules, I do. But… I don’t know. I don’t one hundred percent trust myself, either.
Fisher and Jack arrive just after Bennett, and Byron sends his last-minute apologies, so we’re all here but the vibe is very different than usual. I’ve turned on ESPN, but no one’s even glancing in that direction. Everyone’s chatting and picking at the food and talking to Jules like this is a party.
“Does anyone want water?” Jules asks. “I need to stay hydrated.”
“Yes, please,” Worth says. Turns out, Fisher wants water too. I cross the kitchen and reach for a jug, which I place in Jules’ hands just as she’s about to ask me where she can find one.
She smiles wide, and I can’t help but mirror her. “Just what I was after.” Our voices are low, the two of us carving out a private space in the crowded kitchen. It’s nice.
“Thought so,” I say. “I think I have some lemon too, if you want to be really fancy.”
“I know you have lemons, because I bought them.”
“What is happening to my life that I don’t even know what’s in my fridge anymore?”
“Me,” she says, beaming up at me. “I’m happening to your life.”
“Don’t I know it.” And I don’t mind it. Not at all. She’s good company, funny and thoughtful and kind. The sex is great. She’s—
“You two look good together,” Worth says, interrupting my thoughts.
“The light in this apartment makes everyone look good,” Jules says. “And the views make your friend bearable.”
I can’t believe I ever thought she was furious most of the time. I can’t remember the last time Jules wasn’t smiling or making me laugh or just generally happy. I find myself craving her company when she’s not around, wondering what she’s doing and when I’ll see her next.
“So you’re managing The Mayfair?” Fisher asks Jules.
“I am,” she replies. “Best job ever.”
“It’s a shift for that place to have someone at the helm who actually gives a shit, unlike Leo here,” Fisher says.
“Hey,” I say. “I give a shit.”
“No you don’t,” Jules says, poking me in the ribs.
I’m about to contradict her, but what’s the point? I sigh. “You’re right, I don’t. Not that I wouldn’t like for Bennett to lose.”
“Bennett to lose what?” Her gaze flits from him to me.
Of course, Fisher is the one to fill her in. “We each own a hotel and hold a yearly competition of sorts. Mainly based on percentage of net revenue increase. But we also look at gross revenue.”
“Huh,” she says. “You each have a hotel. Is that a coincidence?”
“They bought them so they could bond and compete in equal measure,” Efa says. “It’s basically a dick-measuring contest. But for billionaires. Some guys simply would buy and trade Star Wars memorabilia…”
“Or maybe race muscle cars?” Jules says on a laugh. I’m not sure if she’s laughing at the idea of me in a muscle car or the sheer ridiculousness of the hotel contest. Both maybe. “I can’t believe you bought The Mayfair just so you could fit in with your gang.” She elbows me.
“That’s not it,” I say. “It’s about…” I can’t finish my sentence. Because it is ridiculous. But it’s also not. Even though I’m not truly invested in The Mayfair, I wouldn’t sell it. Doing so would give up a connection to my best friends.
“It explains why you put up with Louis for so long,” she says.
Fisher groans. “I begged him to fire that guy. I knew he was useless.”
“He was running the place into the ground,” she says, “but keeping net profit relatively stable because of underinvestment.”
Bennett laughs. “So what you’re saying is that Leo is going to take an absolute bath when it comes to net profit this financial year.”