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All I want to do is fall back asleep, which I plan to do once my ass gets into a seat. I take the first available seat that I can find, which is a fucking middle seat and I’m silently cursing my assistant for not booking me a flight with first class seating.
I lean my head back against the seat and then close my eyes.
Once we’re in the skies, I recline as soon as allowed and that’s the last I remember before landing in Los Angeles.
* * *
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us on a Sunday, Mr. Addison,” the senior associate of Bean, MacMilliam and Singer leans forward to shake my hand in the lobby of their building.
I offer him a weak smile and pull off my shades.
“My pleasure, I was traveling and thought that this was a perfect detour on the way home, so, how can I be of assistance?” I ask.
“I believe the partners will have all the details. This project wouldn’t be one of my case files. I’ll be bringing you up to the conference room and you will have all the information there,” he explains.
Wordlessly, we ride the elevator up to another floor and he guides me down a long hallway to a glass room where there are four gentlemen sitting at one end of a large rectangular table. The men stand up and eagerly wait for my approach with their hands poised for me to take it in mine. I shake their hands and introductions are made promptly before sitting.
“Thank you for consulting on this merger with us. We have heard amazing things about what you can do and have done for other companies and we hope that you are able to assist us in the same manner.”
I thrive on the high of taking two companies and making them one. I’ve had plenty of experience in the field of finance and business that I’ve had success rates that no one in the Pacific Northwest has been able to top. Business and gambling are one and the same to me.
When I’m looking for a new venture to take on, I look at what I can do to maximize whatever wealth potential I can get out of a business that makes the rolling of the two companies together easy.
I review the documents and provide my professional opinion in detail over the next few hours before I’m back at the airport and heading home to Seattle.
I walk into my condo with views to die for of the Great Wheel and Elliot Bay. The sky is a mixture of pastels as the lights turn on while walking through the space.
My penthouse is half of the floor, the other half of this floor is shared by one of the other partners at Addison and Drake. At a young age, I’ve worked hard for this view and I love coming home each and every time to bask in it.
The clicking of nails echoes through the living room as Scout, my best-friend rounds the corner. I’ve had Scout since I graduated from undergrad. He was a gift from my little sister, and I would be a horrible human if I didn’t accept him as a pup. He has kept me company through the years and has created a good bond between my sister and I.
I bend to my knees as the mutt slobbers all over half of my face and laugh as his paws push me onto my back while I rub behind his ears.
“Hey buddy, I’ve missed you.” I say in between moments of Scout’s excitement to see me.
I push myself off the floor and with Scout on my heel, walk over to my home office.
After starting my laptop, I sit down at my desk and lean back in my chair.
What a whirlwind of a weekend.
My college best friend is getting married and like a rookie, I don’t remember the last twenty-four hours. I’ve been to Las Vegas many times, and this is the first time in several years that I lost control of who I am. I feel like I did something monumental, but I just can’t put my finger on it.
I rack my brain for memories of what happened last night, what happened with the mystery woman.
Who was she? Was she real or a figment of my imagination?
I’ve got this weird feeling that if she is real that we did more than dance.
Chapter Two
“This one time in Vegas, I woke up outside my room. Had to traipse down to the front desk in pjs and barefoot to get a new key.”
PEYTON
The flight back home was obnoxious.
None of the pain pills that I took helped, so my hangover came back from Vegas with me, and there was this guy in front of me snoring so loud and reclined that it took every bit of patience that I had to tune him out. I may have passive-aggressively kicked his seat a few times, but none of the movement made his snoring any quieter.
