Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I looked up at him. “I know. I guess I just wanted to pretend there’s an easy way out of this mess for a little while.”
“I know, son. When something good happens, our first instinct is to drink to celebrate. When something bad happens, we’re ready to drink to forget. And when nothing happens, we drink to make it happen. That’s why we’re alcoholics. But we can’t drown our problems. Because our sorrows are Olympic swimmers.”
I forced a smile. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. That’s what best friends are for. Just don’t expect me to braid your hair. By the way, I’ve been meaning to mention that you could use a damn haircut.”
I wound up staying at Mr. Thorne’s for most of the night. We never did come up with an easy way out of the mess I’d gotten myself into. But it wasn’t for lack of trying. Unfortunately, there just wasn’t an easy way out of this one. I hoped there was a way out at all.
Chapter 26
* * *
Sophia
Knock. Knock. Knock.
It was almost midnight. Unless housekeeping was knocking on my office door, which I sincerely doubted, there was only one person it could be at this hour.
I kept quiet, hoping he’d think I’d left my light on and go away. The last thing I needed was a showdown with Weston. I felt drained, physically and emotionally exhausted, after spending the last two days with my grandfather and father. Tonight, when I’d snuck back into The Countess, all I’d wanted to do was crawl into bed. But my grandfather had asked me to send him a bunch of information, and since I was on shaky ground after what I’d told him, I wanted to show him I was a hundred-percent committed. So I’d come right up to my office, before even going to my room. I’d been relieved to find Weston’s office light off when I’d passed by a few minutes ago.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I held my breath the second time.
“Soph, I know you’re in there. I’ve been watching the hotel’s security cameras on my phone since you left, waiting for you to come back. I saw you walk in a little while ago.”
“Just go away, Weston.”
Not surprisingly, he didn’t listen. Instead, he cracked open my office door. But rather than swing it wide, he stopped with it slightly ajar. “I’m coming in. Please don’t throw anything. I just want two minutes.”
I grimaced. As much as I hated him at the moment, a tiny part of me felt bad that I’d thrown his cell and injured him. I’d never been violent toward another person.
The door slowly creaked open until Weston was fully visible. The way he looked caused an involuntary ache in my chest. His hair was disheveled, and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days. He wore a wrinkly dress shirt, slacks that I was pretty sure he’d slept in, and a large Band-Aid covered his forehead above his left eyebrow.
I sighed. My mood had shifted yesterday from angry to sad. I no longer wanted to throw a cell phone; instead, I’d cried myself to sleep last night. I never even cried when Liam and I split up, and we’d been together for a long time. Though I wasn’t about to give Weston the satisfaction of knowing how hurt I was. It was bad enough I’d fallen for his con. My pride couldn’t take him also seeing how pathetic and sad it had left me. So I tried my best to channel mean and bitter, though I lacked the energy for it. I just wanted this game over so I could move on.
“What do you want, Weston? I’m exhausted from traveling and need to finish some work before I go to bed.”
He stepped inside and quietly clicked the door closed behind him. “I’m so sorry, Soph.”
“Okay. Great. Thank you. Are we done now?”
Weston’s puppy dog eyes feigned hurt pretty damn well. If I didn’t know what a stellar actor he was, I might’ve believed he was as upset as I was.
“I know it doesn’t look good from what you read. But I swear, I never took any information from you, and I was never planning on giving anything to my family. You have to believe me.”
“No. I actually don’t. What I have to do is learn from the mistakes I’ve made. And believing anything that came out of your mouth was mistake number one. Trust me, I won’t be doing that again.”
He took a few steps closer. “My grandfather didn’t trust me here when I told him you were running the show for the Sterlings. Based on my track record the last few years, he knew women and alcohol were my downfall. He wanted my father to take over. The only way he’d let me stay was if I agreed to try to get information from you.”