Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
I was bitter and resentful. I hated the king of Ventdestine. I didn’t much like Violet right now. And I resented the fuck out of the fact I had hundreds of millions of dollars… yet my money couldn’t solve this problem because my boyfriend had fucking principles.
“I hate principles,” I muttered.
Kenji continued to tap on his iPad as the plane cut through the California sky on the way toward Wyoming. “Girl, same. Mrs. Rowland. She thought the jocks deserved precedence because they worked so hard to represent us. Meanwhile, those of us who were mathletes could suck eggs. Please tell me what a stinky junior varsity wrestler ever did to deserve second helpings in the lunch line? If you asked me—which no one did—it was the scrawny kids that needed the extra food.”
I ignored him and continued grumbling under my breath.
“Please tell me you at least pleasure yourselves at night over FaceTime because you seem a little… frustrated.” Kenji’s voice was as dry as it would have been if he’d been explaining quarterly estimated tax payments.
“I would, but we’re on completely different schedules! When I finish my workday, Bear’s in the middle of all the royal family’s evening commitments. It’s been impossible. He tries calling me when he’s done, but by then, I’m at dinner with the artists from the project this week. You know how it’s been. I’m at my wit’s end.”
Kenji finally looked up and met my eye. “Maybe you should reconsider this relationship.”
I glared at him. “I hope you’re joking. I’m not reconsidering it! I’m just… sad. I miss the hell out of him. It’s been ten days!”
“See, this is why I stay away from entanglements. The pining. I fucking hate pining. It’s beneath my dignity, and quite frankly, it’s beneath yours, too. You’re better than this. I say you put the moves on hot Sheriff Foster this weekend.” Kenji bounced his eyebrows. “He’d be up for it. Probably. And he’s a big muscular guy, which is clearly your type.”
I stared at him. “What the fuck are you doing right now?”
“You’re like a baby bird. You took one step outside the eggshell and imprinted on the first thing you saw. It’s common. Nobody blames you. But maybe this isn’t the guy. Maybe you don’t need one guy. Maybe you need lots of guys. I’d like to see you decide to sample all the… the forest… because there are plenty more animals out there, Zane.”
I felt like he was trying to make a point, but I was too annoyed to see it.
“I’m in love with Ryan Galloway. It’s not a whim, Kenji. And I’m not a fucking baby bird. I’m a man who knows what he wants. I’m a business owner, a billionaire, a motherfucking global rock star. And I want to be with the man I love.”
“Mm,” he said, going back to tapping on the tablet. “If only there was a way. But your hands are tied, really. I mean, between the label’s strict rules and Violet’s new policy.” He pursed his lips and shook his head sadly. “Even billionaires have to play by the rules, I guess.”
I finally saw through him. Saw through this ridiculous bullshit. He was provoking me into taking action.
“I fucking hate you. Why can’t you just say what you mean?”
He shrugged. “Chaska Inira says the map to the answer is already drawn on your heart.”
I had no patience for his Peruvian faith healer right now. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means maybe you need to be provoked before you realize you already know what you want to do. You already have the answers, Zane. I’m just trying to get you to drop your fear so you can get to it.”
I opened my mouth to snap at him that it wasn’t fear, but I stopped before the first word came out.
It was fear. Fear of fucking up. Fear of letting people down. Fear of upsetting people.
Fear of being abandoned.
“I’m worried it’ll be too much. That he won’t want to be with me,” I admitted softly.
Kenji set his tablet aside and turned to me. “What else?”
“I’m worried the record label won’t want to renew me?”
He shrugged. “Do you need them?”
Of course I needed them. Every big performer needed a big-name label behind them.
Didn’t they?
I met Kenji’s eyes. Whatever he saw in mine made him sigh and pull back out his tablet. “If only you could afford to start your own label,” he muttered sarcastically.
Nervous butterflies began to riot in my gut. “Surely I can’t just start my own label…”
“Check your email,” he said mildly. “The business plan is already there, along with a list of ten artists who are up for contract renewal and would switch to you in a heartbeat. I also scheduled that call you mentioned with the Irish woman who plays the mandolin. You know she’s unsigned, right?”