Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30316 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30316 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
“Remember when Stacey was bragging about the billionaire her older sister bagged as a husband?” I rolled my eyes at the reminder of a girl who’d only made it into our sorority when she’d pledged last year because she was a legacy through several generations. She was a horrible snob, and she’d been blatantly obvious in her desire to be my friend because of who my dad was. “Yeah, well, she got drunk one night and told me it never would’ve happened if her mom hadn’t gotten her sister in to meet Julia. She’s supposed to have an amazing track record, and Luxe Connections only works with the very best clients.”
“Then why haven’t I ever heard of her or them before?”
She reached out and tapped the business card with a metallic blue–painted nail. “Because the discreet thing isn’t just a tagline. It’s real. Their clients are wealthy and famous enough for it to be a requirement, which is why this is the perfect solution for you. Your dad and his team won’t hear about what you’ve done until it’s too late.”
“So what? I’m supposed to just call this Julia person and tell her to find me a husband?”
“Yup.”
“And you think that’s really going to work?”
“Why not? Julia wouldn’t have a successful business if it didn’t work for a lot of her clients. Why should you be different?”
That was an excellent point. One which stuck with me for the next week. It didn’t matter what I was doing—meeting up with my sorority sisters for lunch, ducking my dad’s phone calls, representing the Michaels name at fundraisers—the idea kept popping into my head. Even while I was sweating my butt off during some crazy boot camp workout Ashley signed us up for. It felt like the business card she had given me was burning a hole in my purse. I finally gave in after eight days and called the number to set up an appointment.
As I was walking into the Luxe Connections office, I started to second-guess my decision. Her office was sophisticated and stylish, decorated in muted beiges and blues, with beautiful landscape paintings adorning the walls. The furniture I’d have bought in a heartbeat, and there was a stunning view of Central Park.
Then I met Julia, who matched the space. She was tall, beautiful, and well-dressed. Her deep chocolate eyes lit up her smooth, light brown skin, and her braided hair was twisted up into an elegant chignon. She wore a pair of heels that I would’ve loved to have stolen right off her feet, but my father would have said they were inappropriate because he didn’t like me wearing anything over three inches. He expected me to blend in. Not draw too much attention to myself. And definitely not marry a man he didn’t pick out for me himself.
“Keaton Michaels, it’s lovely to meet you. I’m Julia Connor,” she said with a warm smile.
“It’s nice to meet you as well.” I shook her hand and sat in the padded chair in front of her glass desk as she rounded it and sat down with her back to the windows facing the park. “Where’d you get those shoes? They’re to die for.” I figured if I was going to piss my dad off by selling myself into a marriage to someone he most likely wouldn’t approve of, I should at least consider buying a pair of shoes I loved.
She lifted her foot and flashed one of the striking pink-and-black shoes at me with a grin. “I got them at the boutique on Madison Avenue, just last week.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t request an appointment with me to ask about my heels, no matter how amazing they are.” Her tone was kind, and her dark eyes held a spark of curiosity.
“You’re right, that’s not the reason I called. But now that I’m actually here, I think maybe I made a mistake. I feel so foolish for wasting your time. I’m so sorry.”
I started to stand but found myself sitting back down when she waved her hand toward my seat and urged, “No, please. Don’t go yet. I meet with clients who have many reasons for wanting to find a spouse. I’ve heard all kinds of stories, and I’m the last person who’ll judge you for your decision to call me. Don’t feel foolish. Not with me. I’m here to help, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me why you wanted to meet with me.”
I heaved a deep sigh and shook my head. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Can I hazard a guess and assume this has something to do with your father?”
I blinked up at her, surprised by her question even though I shouldn’t have been. Everyone in New York knew who Senator Norris Michaels was, which meant they also knew me. He’d made sure of it by running for several political offices on a family-values platform. My mom was gone, and I was their only child, so I was paraded around when he needed to remind voters that he was a widowed father who’d raised a daughter on his own. My dad loved me, but I was tired of being used as a political pawn.