Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“That’s the part that none of us could figure out. Not even Serie. HR is working with her on being more present at work.”
“Someone looks desperate to get ahold of you.” He opens the door and walks out the front. “Let us know if we need to intervene to file a restraining order. Figured we’d check with you first to see if you recognize the caller.”
“I’m not worried. The house has plenty of security.”
Turning around, he walks backward. “We weren’t worried about the house. We need to protect our people.”
“And here I thought you’d say investment, ya big softie.” I close the door and grab my phone to read the full text messages over coffee.
Scanning the first few lines, the name pops out first.
Cate Farin?
Cate . . . huh . . . Oh wow. No way! Cat?
Damnnn, Catalina Farin. That blast from the past doesn’t disappoint. I scroll through the other messages, but Tommy’s right. I can’t make sense of how a carriage plays into the rest of the messages. I got her name but what the fuck with this number. It’s a few digits short.
Running my fingers through my hair, I track back to that brown-eyed beauty in high school. I came back from our first tour to track her down, but she was gone.
Tommy’s mention of intervening comes to mind when I count how many messages Cat left. Five does seem excessive . . .
Should I give her the benefit of the doubt that she is anxious to reconnect? I’m a fucking superstar, so it’s plausible. Or maybe she’s turned into a groupie looking for one night with a rock star? We had a connection, though too brief, and she was hot back then. Can’t say I’m not intrigued to see what she looks like now.
I could pop by and check her out from a distance since I have nothing on my schedule.
Chuckling, I’m starting to think maybe someone needs to intervene on her behalf with me sounding like a fucking stalker. I do what anyone would do in this situation. I get Rochelle at Outlaw Records to track down an address for me.
I’ll see if I can catch a glimpse of Cat. If not, I’ll find other entertainment in the form of a blond who likes fast cars and partying in the Hills, or maybe I’m more in the mood for a sexy fucking redhead and heading to Sunset. Live music, drinks, and then fun back at her place.
The choices are endless.
The opportunities in LA, or any other city, for that matter, are plenty.
My not-so-little black book of contacts has all kinds of women I can call on a moment’s notice when I’m in town. A quick scroll and text, and the lucky lady will drop everything to spend time with me.
My stomach rumbles, distracting me from later to the here and now. I need food before any good time. I place an order to be delivered ASAP.
I barely have time to order food to the house before I have Cat Farin’s address sitting on my phone.
She was gorgeous in high school and hands down the best-looking girl in our class. But I also remember how she used to make everyone feel like they mattered. I always felt like a rock star around her. And now I am one. Wonder how she’ll react to me if I show up?
I eat with speed, not sure why I’m suddenly on a mission like it’s my life’s work, but I slip on my shoes and grab my wallet and keys to my Ferrari to see what Cat Farin’s been up to all these years.
I’ll check her out, then decide what to do after that.
With nothing to do and less to lose, I drive to the Valley.
4
Cate
“When was your last orgasm, Cate?”
I’ve learned to control my reaction when my patients try to shock me, but I’ve barely had time to set my bag on the table. So I fail today and pick my jaw off the retirement home floor. Adjusting the lapel of my white coat, I stretch my neck and try to reason my way back to calm, cool, and collected. “I think you meant to ask me how my day is going. Right, Maggie?”
“Nope.” She pops the p, digging her heels in deeper, and stares at me with her vibrant green eyes, still expecting an answer.
Pulling out a chair for her, I won’t egg her on by smiling, but a straight face is hard to maintain. I love how curious she is about others. She’s kept her mind sharp and her wit intact. I only wish her curiosity didn’t extend into my personal life. I’m not looking to feel bad about my recent lack-of-orgasms streak because one of my eighty-seven-year-old patients is looking for entertainment. I ask, “Were you always such a firecracker?”