Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 28810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
I probably would... “I think you mean, fuck me over.”
“Exactly. Promise me you’ll give it your all for at least six months, and you’ll stop being so secretive and doomy-gloomy in the mornings.”
“Okay.” I smiled, stunned that we had the same timeline. “I will give my all for the next six months.”
“Good!” She clapped and headed to the door. “I’ll handle the rest. Just trust me.”
I pulled a pillow from my drawer and positioned it on my desk.
“Oh, wait,” Jenny said, looking over her shoulder. “What were you saying about a part-time night job?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged. “I’m just helping out an old friend…I’m getting paid for it, though.”
“You could’ve just told me that without being a weirdo.” She blew me a kiss. “Sweet dreams until we open. Rest up for the war!”
I collapsed onto my pillow the moment she shut the door.
THE CEO
ADRIAN
“You’ve got to be shitting me…” I stared at the front page of The New York Post. Then I looked at the latest printout Benjamin had given me.
The images were crystal clear and the facts were black and white.
The sexy-ass woman I was looking for was my newest rival.
Well, she probably ‘thinks’ she’s my rival.
I ran a finger over her pouty lips, shaking my head at fate’s cruel joke and remembering her ridiculous question from that night.
“Are you here cosplaying a billionaire?”
“Well, I’m so glad that we can finally put this issue to bed, sir.” Benjamin cleared his throat. “Since Summer Connors is officially out of your league, we can focus on business.”
“She’s out of my league?”
“Very much so.”
“How?”
“She’s charming, kind-hearted, and apparently motivated by things other than money. From all my research, she’s just a genuinely good person.”
“Oh, okay.” I stood up from my desk and walked over to the window. “Have you had a chance to look outside this morning?”
“Um, not yet…”
“Come over and see,” I said. “Tell me if a genuinely good person would paint a sign like that.”
I waited for him to come nearer, to spot a small crew of workers who were hanging a new banner above Slow Burn.
Defund Adrian Sinclair’s Billionaire ASS.
Real Romance Books Live Here.
Benjamin’s lips curved into a smile.
“Something funny, Benjamin?”
“Like I said, sir…” He shrugged. “She’s charming.”
“Get out.”
“Okay.” He headed toward my door.
“Actually, no, wait,” I said. “Bring me your research on her.”
“Which parts?”
“All of it,” I said. “I want to know how many titles she moves a day—online and in-store. I want her signing list, her merch inventory, and I want to know how the hell she plans to sabotage me for the next six months.”
“You know what? There was one interesting thing in the background check…”
“I’m listening.”
“She might be planning to get to you from the inside.” He tossed me a folder. “She just got a part-time job in Manhattan.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“It’s at the book printing warehouse you just bought.”
I smiled. “I see…”
THE INDIE
SUMMER
Two Nights Later
“Bryan, can you bring two copies of The Nightingale to row sixty, please?” I spoke into my walkie-talkie.
“Roger that!” My coworker spoke back. “Coming over in a few.”
I glanced at my order sheet and looked at the prices of the books. For some reason, they were far cheaper for stores to buy here, and it made me want to consider switching from the company I was using.
But that would mean putting money in Adrian Sinclair’s pocket…
“Here you go.” Bryan handed me the books. “I’m going to nap for like an hour.”
“Wait a minute.” I glanced at the covers. “This is To Kill a Mockingbird, Bryan. I said The Nightingale.”
“What does it matter?” He shrugged. “They’re both about birds, right?”
Oh my god! “They’re two completely different books by completely different authors.”
He stared at me blankly.
“How would you feel if you sat down expecting a sweeping historical novel about love and war and wound up in the middle of a Southern gothic?”
“I wouldn’t be in that scenario at all.” He laughed. “I don’t read.”
Obviously. “Well, how do you think the customer would feel if they got the wrong book because of your mistake?”
“Not too bad, since we guarantee replacements within twenty-four hours in that scenario.”
I held back a sigh. “Go take your nap.”
“Thanks.” He disappeared, and I walked off in search of the right book.
When I was right in the middle of Kristin Hannah’s backlist, footsteps sounded behind me.
“So, you lied to me on the night we met.” Adrian Sinclair’s deep voice made me freeze. “That’s deeply disappointing, Miss Summer Connors.”
So much for ‘zero chance’ of him showing up here…
“I think you have me confused with someone else, whoever you are.” I refused to turn around.
The last thing I needed was another look at him; he’d invaded enough of my daydreams already.
“I need to talk to you for a moment,” he said. “Can you turn around, please?”
“I’m clearly busy right now. This is a high-stakes job.”