Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
He walks away and I’m left with the desire to ask him to stay, to explain it all to me better because he’s right about one thing. He and Reid felt like they fit with us.
And my mother is choosing to not be a part of my life because she doesn’t understand what it means to be me. I’d kind of like to talk to him about that, too. The last person I talked to about my parents was his brother, and for that moment, I felt like one person in the world truly understood. Naturally it was Reid and it was all a lie.
But I sit and get back to work because I have to deal with my blood family and this business they entrusted me with.
Reid Dorsey will have to wait.
Chapter Nine
Four days later I stand outside the gorgeous, high-tech building where Reid Dorsey lives and makes his plans to ruin the world and all of the beautiful things in it. And history. This is where the fucker plots and plans to shove all history aside in exchange for turning Banover Place into some kind of spa. I don’t even understand half of what this man is expecting me to do to that poor multimillion-dollar work of art and history.
I only know I can’t let him do it.
This is not what Anika signed him up for. I have to stop this crap before we start work on Monday.
“You’re one of Mr. Dorsey’s guests?” Naturally this isn’t the kind of building where one simply buzzes in or waits until someone else does and slips inside. Nope. There’s real security and everything. An older man in a crisp blue suit stands behind the security desk, bringing his glasses up and staring at the screen. He frowns. “I show them all checked in.”
The words don’t mean anything to me. If he’s got Britta up there or is having a party with all his uber-rich friends, then they can get an earful, too. It will serve him right. “I’m a coworker of his. It’s an emergency.”
Yep. It’s a design emergency because this project is about to fall apart.
The security guy raises a bushy brow as though proving to me that he knows what the Dorsey brothers do for a living. Well, for work at least. I think the billion-dollar trust fund fixes the whole living thing. “I’ll call up. What was your name, dear? I’m sorry for all the trouble but we’re worried about reporters. The press is coming around again.”
“Yes, so I’ve heard.” Even one of the New York rags picked up on Reid’s epic love story. There have been days the last week or so that I wish I could go back to the bubble where I had no idea who this man is. Now I know and he’s everywhere. He’s invading my life, and it’s only going to get worse because the man annoys me and we’re not even working twelve-hour days together yet.
I hate the fact that at some point my phone heard me say his name enough that now my socials all offer me information about Reid Dorsey and his fabulous brother and his stunning fiancée/ex-fiancée, depending on who you ask.
I now know that he was voted one of New York’s most eligible bachelors five times since he turned twenty-one. People magazine put him in their sexiest issue. I’ve read all kinds of rumors about why their popular show stopped filming, and they are mostly about how arrogant and controlling Reid Dorsey is.
He’s about to find out I can’t be controlled. Well, if I get past his security.
“Yes, I need to speak to Mr. Dorsey,” the security guard says. “He has another guest. She says her name is Harper Ross and she works with him.” He nods my way. “The housekeeper is going to ask him.”
Of course there’s a housekeeper. I’m sure she’s imported from France or something and makes him croissants every day. Except there’s no way that man eats carbs. None. I got my hands briefly on his abs and there was not a single pastry detected.
And honestly, that’s a strike against him, too, because pastries are delicious, and it’s men like Reid who make other guys feel bad about eating them. Men might be way easier to deal with if they weren’t hungry all the time.
“He’s such a nice man.” The guard gestures around. “You know he designed the lobby and a couple of the common spaces. And he didn’t charge at all. Just said we deserved updated spaces.”
Sure. The wealthiest of the wealthy for his pro bono work, and he charged the rest. Asshole. I want to point this truth out to my new friend, but I simply nod and give him a “sure.”
He puts the phone back to his ear. “Well, yes, thank you. I’ll send her up. And if there’s any of your delicious food left over that those boys can’t finish, you know where to send it.” He giggles like a schoolgirl. “Damn straight, Aggie. See you soon.”