Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
With a sardonic grin on my face, I push to my feet, button my suit jacket, and make my way down to the main area of the club. Time to speak to Mr. Bardot and ensure that his signature is on the contract before he even thinks of playing in one of my rooms tonight.
Only, he doesn’t know just how expensive his needs have become.
2
Scarlett
The sleek, silver dress that drapes over my curves is beautiful, but even as I stare at myself in the mirror, I’m torn between going to this party or staying home. My mother, Marinda Bardot, is one of the most publicized socialites, while my father, Horatio Bardot, is working hard to get into the senator’s office.
Wealth comes at a steep price, and they don’t realize it. Since I was a child, I knew what I wanted to do, and it wasn’t to be the pretty arm candy my mother would like me to be. I have goals, dreams, and they don’t involve a man putting a diamond on my finger and knocking me up while he goes to his pristine office to run a Fortune 500 company.
I want to be the CEO of my own life, but with the Bardot name comes responsibility I’m not ready for. Granted, my gran, who I look up to, will understand if I told her my plans. Because of her, I was able to get an internship in New York in a few months.
My folks were not happy about that, but they acquiesced because Gran wanted it. Slipping my feet into the four-inch heeled sandals, I take in my outfit, my long, red hair plaited in a thick braid down to the middle of my back. Stray curls have already come loose, but I don’t tie them back. My wide, dark eyes are lined with black, my lashes darkened by mascara, and my lips are shimmering from the gloss painted over the deep red lipstick.
Perfectly poised.
I silently make my way out to the hallway, listening for my parents arguing, but find silence. Thankfully, they haven’t already started fighting, but the night is still young. By the time I reach the foyer, my mother appears from the dining room, a flute of champagne already in hand, her eyes sparkling as she takes me in.
“Oh, Scarlett,” she coos. “You look beautiful. There’ll be so many men wanting to dance with you this evening. I hope you’re ready.” Her excitement about finding me a man makes me want to run back upstairs and hide in my room. At my age, I should’ve moved out of the house already, but I stayed. Mainly to keep an eye on my folks, but also, I’ve always felt safe in my childhood home.
“Well, they’ll have to form a line,” I tell her with a fake smile plastered on my lips. If there’s one thing she’s taught me to do well, that’s pretending. It’s not that I wouldn’t like to be with someone, but the fact that she wants to marry me off to the most eligible bachelor leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Laughter bounces from her lips, sounding like a tinkling coin against the expensive tiles as my father saunters toward us, a tight smile on his face and a gaze that flickers with apprehension. I notice the tension taut in his shoulders as he takes us in. “Are you ready?” he asks, his focus on me, and I nod. It doesn’t take my mother long to swallow down her drink, and soon enough, we’re in the town car as it weaves down our long driveway.
My phone buzzes in my purse, and I find a message from my best friend, Aelin. The moment I walked into class and settled beside her, I knew I’d found a connection. She looked over at me, her silver eyes shimmering as she took me in. Her smile was genuine, nothing like girls and women from the social circles I’ve been used to growing up. It was refreshing.
“I hope you’re not going to sit on your phone all night, Scarlett,” my mother admonishes, which I was expecting. The fact that I do have friends outside the people she knows doesn’t sit well with my mother. It never has.
“Leave the girl, Marinda,” Dad tells her, his gaze meeting hers. Something passes between them unspoken, which has ice trickling down my spine. My father turns his attention on me, offering me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s never lied to me. I know this because when Dad would tell me something serious, he would always meet my gaze, but his next words are uttered with his stare on the seat behind me. “It’s nice that you have friends. Your future might change in an instant, and who knows when you’ll need someone to talk to.”