Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I take a step back to read it.
The Jade Sanctum.
4
AUS
Final-fucking-ly.
After nearly an hour of bumper-to-bumper bullshit, I’m pulling into the parking garage the Jade Sanctum staff and I use. I careen into the nearest parking spot, nearly trading paint with the huge-ass trucks on either side of me.
I jump out of my car, shimmy out of the tiny sliver of space between my car and the next, and run—and I mean a full-throttled run—to the Jade Sanctum entrance, checking my watch along the way.
The club’s only been open for ten minutes. In the grand scheme of things, I’m not that late.
But I hate being late. Always have, ever since it was drummed into my head by the guy who ran a magic camp I went to the summer between high school and college.
Not the only thing the bastard drummed into my head, but I let the thought go for now. No time to dig up my past.
I called Leo on the way and asked him to cover for me. I hate doing it—nowhere in his contract does it say it’s his responsibility to hold down the fort whenever the boss doesn’t show up—but he’s a team player. I’ll make sure to give him a whopping Christmas bonus at the end of the year for his trouble.
It’s funny. A few months ago I would have called Scarlet with the favor. But she’s been super fidgety and anxious lately—why is anyone’s guess—and can’t seem to be asked to do anything without breaking into tears.
It’s a shame. Scarlet would be a great person to act as my second in command. She’s a teacher, used to teach high school and recently switched to kindergarten. If anyone can handle a group of drunk patrons, it’s a woman with equal experience corralling hormonal teenagers and impulsive five-year-olds. Scarlet’s smart, too. A Rhodes scholar with the whole world at her fingertips when she was in her early twenties. I’m not sure what happened between then and now, but I know she sure as hell didn’t end up going to Oxford.
Still though, she’s sharp. Everyone knows it except her.
I walk up to the back door, but it’s locked. Of course it is. It’s always locked during business hours. I’ll have to go in through the front entrance on Van Buren, make the walk of shame to my DJ booth in the club’s center. Which will make me even more late. I can’t help but chuckle lightly at how all the forces of the universe—including my own dumb ass—have conspired to make me as late as possible tonight.
I hoof it around the large building dotted with emerald bricks and start twisting up the Golden Carpet. Why we don’t have stairs that lead from the sidewalk to the front door is beyond me, but—
My phone buzzes with a text. I pull it out of my pocket.
It’s Leo. Are you almost here?
I roll my eyes. I start typing.
Literally walking in right—
I bump into a woman standing at the front door, dropping my phone. She lets out a startled squeak.
“Sorry.” I bend down to pick up my phone. “Are you—”
The words stop in my throat as I take the woman in.
Gorgeous doesn’t do her justice.
Beautiful doesn’t do her justice.
Long dark-brown hair with a slight wave. Pouty lips stained in a dark pink. A splash of freckles across a button nose, and the warmest, brownest eyes I’ve ever seen framed by long lashes. I take a step back as she dusts herself off. She’s got a killer body, too. Huge tits, curves in all the right places, and an hourglass figure that could stop time. She’s wearing a tight dress in a checked print. If I were a cartoon character, my eyes would be bugging out and my tongue rolling down to the floor.
I’m not sure that’s not the case, to be honest.
“Are you all right?” I finally choke out.
She looks up at me, and her lips part slightly. God, even her teeth are sexy. “Yes, just shocked me a bit.”
“Should have looked where I was going. My bad.” I stretch out my hand. “I’m Austin Waverly. Aus for short.”
She shakes it, squeezing my fingers gently. “Thea Storm.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That name sounds familiar.”
She bites her lip. “You might have seen me on the news. I’m a meteorologist for ChicagO2 in the mornings.”
I snap my fingers. “That’s it. I’m not much of a news watcher myself, but I’ve seen you on TVs in diners and coffeeshops around town.”
She chuckles. “Let me guess. You get your weather predictions off your phone.”
“As a matter in fact, I do.” I pocket my cell phone. “And it’s almost always wrong.”
“Maybe you should tune in to O2 now and then,” she counters.
“Maybe I should.” I grin. “Especially now that I know what a lovely gal the weather girl is.”