Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
I nodded absentmindedly. Camden’s suggestion made sense. English and I were both fucked up. I still hadn’t escaped what Jane had done. And who the fuck knew when or even if she’d ever recover from Josh cheating on her? Thinking about anything more than a good fuck with her was emotional suicide. It’d be smarter to forget about her.
Camden didn’t need a response. We knew each other well enough to know when the conversation was over.
We were in the middle of a game of pool when Gavin and Sam showed up for the poker night.
“Brought along a stray,” Gavin boasted.
And then Robert Dawson appeared at the entrance as well.
I glanced at Camden. He didn’t like surprises. But he didn’t seem to be bothered by Robert’s appearance. Which either meant that Gavin had run it by him or Camden had something else up his sleeve, like usual.
“Hey, man,” I said, shaking Robert’s hand. “Good to see you again.”
“You too. I was honored to get the invite.” Robert moved and took Camden’s hand next.
Gavin reached for my hand. “So, your brother is having a wedding reception and no wedding. What the fuck is that about?”
“He eloped,” I said with a shrug. “Penn kind of does whatever the fuck he wants. And gets away with it.”
“Lucky bastard,” Gavin muttered. “If I eloped, my family might literally kill me, raise me from the dead, and kill me again.”
Sam chuckled. “Can your family raise people from the dead?”
“It’s that Texas oil money,” I said. “They can do anything.”
“It’s true,” Gavin agreed.
We sat down at the table, and Camden began to shuffle the decks together. I poured drinks like a professional bartender before sliding into my seat at the end of the table, next to Robert. I side-eyed Sam as he shuffled poker chips like he was on the fucking World Series of Poker. I still couldn’t believe how bad he’d hustled us the first time I’d all but dragged him along.
“So, Court, where did you meet your new girl?” Robert asked, taking a sip of his old-fashioned.
Gavin perked up. “New girl?”
“What?” Sam chirped, his chips spilling in surprise.
I carefully glanced up at Camden, who looked unfazed, before turning to Gavin. “What do you mean?”
Robert seemed to read the room. “The woman you showed up with last week. Anna?”
“English?” Gavin gasped. “You’re with English?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam said. He slapped his hand down on the table. “Since when?”
“I’m not with English,” I told them all. “It’s a simple misunderstanding. When we went to Robert’s party together, I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. So, I didn’t correct you when you said we were together.” I shrugged, all nonchalant. “She’s my publicist.”
Robert’s eyes widened. “Oh fuck, I had no idea.”
Gavin sat back in his seat. “Fuck, that is way less interesting.”
Sam just narrowed his eyes. He didn’t believe me. And I could hardly blame him.
“Does that mean English is fair game?” Robert asked with a sly smile. “Because she’s super hot.”
Gavin snorted. “As if you’d have a chance with Anna English.”
“No,” Camden said abruptly, silencing the lot of them. “English isn’t fair game.”
He didn’t meet my eyes. But I knew why he’d said it. And I was grateful. Even if I’d just decided to put the whole thing behind us.
“All right,” Robert said after a minute. “Let’s deal some cards then.”
“Yes. Let’s,” I said.
It would be a good distraction from the rest of this conversation.
19
English
I’d had every intention of talking to Court over the weekend. But Winnie had sent Max Henson, one of her A-list clients, my way, and I’d played babysitter the whole time. It had been bad before Max realized that I was married to Josh. Then, it had gone straight to miserable.
I still couldn’t decide if it was worse that Max kept trying to convince me that Josh was a good guy and people just “made mistakes” or the number of times Max tried to get in my pants. Either way, I’d handled him. He hadn’t botched his round of interviews for his movie. And he was off his merry way, back to LA, where he could be Winnie’s problem again.
But now that Court was working, I saw him a lot less. I suddenly had free days like crazy. And I needed to talk to him.
I knew that, every Monday, he got off work at three and went with Camden to this traditional gentlemen’s club. I’d assumed it was a strip club until I’d looked it up. Apparently, it was this super-snooty aristocratic social club that favored Ivy League educations and bank accounts in the nine- to ten-digit range.
The likelihood that I could get into this place was basically zero. But I’d shown up anyway in the hopes that they would send for him or some bullshit. Since I didn’t want to interrupt his work and I didn’t think just waltzing into his apartment was a good idea. All things considered.