Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“You mean that Margo is stirring up.” She’s been tapping into beauty industry connections that even Henry doesn’t have.
“She knows who to talk to, I agree.” Henry leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But you don’t want to lose control too quickly by signing contracts that handcuff you. Besides, a contract like that means you have to find a production facility, which means you risk manufacturing a subpar product because you can’t possibly make that much by hand. That’s something you want to work up to, instead of getting thrown into.”
“So you don’t think I should pursue this.”
He hesitates. “It’s your company.”
I groan with frustration. “Henry, you’ve been involved with my company since this all started. Now you’ve decided to stay out of it?”
“Fine. I don’t think you should take the deal.” His voice has shifted to that typical commanding tone. “You can have a highly successful business without your product ever touching a shelf inside a store, at least for now. My advice is to stay the course. Build your name on your own first. Retail store contracts will be worth that much more later.”
I weigh Henry’s words. “Zaheera seems to know what she’s doing.” In the time since Henry hired and paid for Nailed It to step in and help me make something of my hobby, I now have stylish packaging, a website, and a basic but perfect new name—Farm Girl Soap—for my legal company.
“They’re the best at what they do. That’s why we went with them.”
“We?” There was no “we” in that decision the day I got the phone call from Zaheera.
Henry ignores me. “She’ll make sure it grows at a healthy rate that you’re comfortable with, so you’re not overwhelmed. Besides, you still have a degree to finish, right?”
I wince at the reminder. “I’m so behind.” After my father’s accident, when I knew I couldn’t head back to Chicago to finish my last year full-time because my parents needed help, I enrolled in correspondence courses. I’ve barely touched the assigned work for this semester, too wrapped up in life with Henry.
“You’ll get there.” He takes my hand in his, his thumb sliding over the pearl. “And now you have a wedding to plan too.”
A thrill radiates through me as I admire the ring again. My wedding to Henry. Because Henry will be my husband soon. It still doesn’t feel real, and I doubt it will until I’m walking down the aisle. “If I can wrestle it away from Mama.” I held my breath when I announced the good news over the phone just before leaving Wolf Cove, not sure what to expect from a woman who has done everything in her power to keep Henry and me apart, including ingesting caffeine pills to fake a heart attack.
The whoop of glee that escaped her had my mouth hanging. According to her, Henry is doing the honorable thing … finally. We’ve only been together a few months.
Henry chuckles. “At least she’s not knitting a Henry doll to burn in effigy.”
“Have you met Bernadette Mitchell? She’d be afraid God himself would strike her with lightning for something so sinful as black magic.”
His laughter grows, his eyes twinkling. “Do you think she’ll keep it quiet—”
“Not a chance.” There won’t be a soul in Greenbank, Pennsylvania, who won’t have heard about my engagement by the end of the day, which means the media will find out shortly after. With all the interest in Henry these days, that’s likely to cause a stir. Will the headlines be kind or judgmental? Worry gnaws at my bliss, threatening to damper it.
“And did you tell her it would be in Alaska?”
“One hurdle at a time.” Though I suspect that will be a monumental one to overcome. Mama will have her heart set on including the entire church congregation, and we can’t possibly be expected to fly them all up there.
Henry’s wry smirk says he guessed as much. “Wolf Hotels has a special events planner for big occasions. I’ll have Miles contact her to call you next week to start the ball rolling. She’s good. Her name is Jill, and she’ll organize anything you want.”
“We want,” I correct him. “It’s your wedding too.”
“Abbi, if it were up to me, we’d be driving to the courthouse from the tarmac as soon as we land, and I’d be fucking my wife by nightfall.”
“How romantic,” I tease, but my stomach flips with nerves. There is something swoony about his sudden impatience to marry me.
A dangerous glint lights in his eye as his grip tightens. “You want romance, Abbi?”
“I want you.”
“You already have me.” He yanks me forward and onto his lap, my legs straddling his thighs. “Every inch of me.” Heat from his strong, skilled hands seer my skin through my black leggings as they slide around to cup either side of my ass, pulling me forward until our torsos are flush against each other and that delicious hard ridge is pressing into the apex at my thighs.