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)
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I whisper.
“I don’t know what the future may bring any more than you do, but I enjoy your company, Piper Renee. I like whatever this is right now.”
That makes two of us.
“So, um, what happened in that trip—”
He brings me closer, and his breath on my neck silences me.
“It was goddamned intense. And when it happens again, we’ll make sure it’s under better circumstances,” he rumbles.
When, he says.
Holy hell.
This is too much.
Yes, I’m cocooned in his arms right now, but what’s to stop that from changing tomorrow?
He straight up didn’t promise me a future.
He’s still my boss and nothing else.
Before this weekend, I wasn’t even sure Brock Winthrope had a heart.
I’m falling too hard, too fast, too recklessly.
What if he comes to his senses and drops me like a hot potato?
Nothing good can come from living out this fantasy.
I’m trying not to cry as he strokes my hair, slowly threading his fingers through it. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“Like hell. Tell me.”
“I’m just worried,” I admit.
His grip tightens around me again as he leans in, pressing his lips to my cheek. “Your dad will get the best care, sweetheart. You have my word.”
That’s when my heart drops out.
Stolen and shattered by the world’s most eligible billionaire bachelor who will forget me the instant he finds his next supermodel to obsess over.
In the meantime, though, I’m going to close my eyes.
I’m going to enjoy this.
And I’m going to pretend this bossy lie we’re living can last forever.
18
The Paradise Package (Brock)
A few days later, Piper storms in and drops a hefty box of files on my desk.
Her normal hellcat smile is gone and there’s a crease in her forehead.
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
If that’s fine, then I’m Mr. Fucking Rogers.
I wait for her to say more. When she doesn’t, I nod at the files.
“What’s this?”
“Part of your master plan. We finally have something concrete. You want to drown out the negative reviews with positive PR? Then we’ll do it with honest reviews from real people,” she says, her eyes flaring.
I pause, turning it over in my head. “For that to be effective, we’ll need real people with a built-in following.”
“Yep,” she agrees.
I stare at her, wondering if the stress is clouding her thinking.
“Piper, we already tried that once. Everyone and their damn brother turned us down. They act like Winthrope properties will give them genital warts the second they walk through the door.” I can’t keep the bitter edge out of my voice.
“Well, yeah. You were going for A-listers for hotels that look like they’re a C plus at best. They get showered with offers and it makes them crazy selective about what they do and where they go.”
“So, what’s the plan? Punch down?”
For the first time in days, she smiles.
Goddamn, do I love that sight.
“We go after newbies—successful ones who have been posting consistently three to six months and have a steady uptick in followers. They have enough fans to feed the algorithms, but probably aren’t getting enough freebies to scoff at luxury offers yet. Their reviews will be more generous. You’ll win with strength in numbers.”
I stare at the Seattle cityscape, the sun piercing through a grey ceiling of clouds. Her plan is damn near flawless.
I turn and say, “You’re brilliant. I’ll have Marketing start contacting influencers later today.”
She smiles, but this time it doesn’t touch her eyes.
“You know you can be in Mexico with your dad, right?” I say.
We’ve danced around the subject over the last week. Between my work schedule and her visits to the hospital, we’re like passing ships in the night. Always finding safe harbor in each other’s arms and exchanging few words.
“No, you solved my problem. Big-time. It’s only fair I stay here and take care of yours.”
“And you’ve done that,” I say. “What happens next involves more people doing their jobs well than you and Miss Landers.”
She holds my gaze.
Her eyes are shining, innocent and intense. I still hate the stress lining her face.
“Come here,” I say.
“What?”
I push my chair in and start walking around the desk. “Come, I said.”
She steps closer once I’m in front of her, and I pull her into my arms.
“I can get you on a flight to Mexico City in a matter of minutes. That isn’t a problem. I don’t want you to be stuck here, worried half to death. You’re no good to me when work is an afterthought.”
“I’d worry myself sick there too,” she admits.
“Strange. The woman I met in Lanai was carefree,” I whisper, tracing her cheek with my thumb.
She giggles as my hand skims down her neck.
“There’s my favorite sound again. Let’s hear it more.”
“I’m carefree until I’m not, Brock. I just try not to dwell on things I can’t control, and I’m not doing a great job lately. With Dad and Maisy gone...it’s hard. It’s always been the three of us for so long.”