“Sweetheart, don’t do this.” I sigh, opening my bedroom door. “The world is your oyster. Go explore. We fucked, no biggie. Move on.”
“God, you’re a jerk!”
I shrug as she storms past me, and I slam the door behind her, cursing myself for fucking another madwoman.
They’re all crazy.
I shower, allowing the hot water to soothe me, before dressing in a suit, ready for the day ahead.
The day ahead…lunching with potential clients and keeping Pops happy.
Easy.
I love my life, but working for my dad has more cons than pros.Especially when your dad is Alec James.
As if on cue, my phone vibrates in my hand, my dad's face alerting me to my tardiness.
“Dad.”
“Blake, where are you?”
I nod at my new housekeeper who flushes under my gaze, biting her lip as she returns to dusting a perfectly clean shelf. She’s cute.
Never shit on your own doorstep, Blake, I remind myself, dragging my eyes away from the sexy brunette.
“On my way in.” I grin, sliding behind the wheel of my Chevrolet C8. The call transfers to the Bluetooth speaker, and the engine purrs beneath me.
“You should’ve been here an hour ago.”
Twenty-five years old and I’m still getting shit.
“What can I say, the traffic is a killer.”
“Blake,” Dad says sharply. “Don’t fuck with me. We’ve got a meeting in fifty minutes. You’d better be there.”
In this car, I could be there in thirty.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Calm down, you’ll give yourself a hernia.”
“You’llgive me a hernia.”
“See you soon, old man.”
The drive to work is as beautiful as always, the ocean chasing the highway the whole drive, until I meet the outskirts of the city.
I love living near the ocean: far enough away from the city that I get to escape after a busy day, but close enough that I can roll out of bed late.
The streets are packed, and as usual, my car commands attention.
She’s ice blue and sleek and by far my favorite toy in my life.
I park her up, shoving a couple of mints in my mouth as I jog to the elevator.
I don’t need my dad giving me shit about reeking of beer.
“Mr. James.” A uniformed security guy nods at me, opening the elevator.
“Morning,” I respond, taking a moment to compose myself.
