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Hey Work Momma,
FYI! A little king is still a prince.
We’ll be there. Chill.
Danika calls my dad Big King, I’m Little King, and Stefan is Baby King. My mother was almost never around when I was a child. She doesn’t have a maternal bone in her Chanel covered body. I have known Danika for almost as long as Harley. Danika is like a mother to Stefan and me. My father trusts her like family, knowing she has our backs. Sometimes, she’s a royal pain in my ass, but Danika has my best interests at heart. I know she does everything with love, even when she yells to get the message across.
I lean back in my chair, frustrated when I scroll through the comments from the beta testers. They’re in our private chat box, bitching about how much they hate level thirty of Master of Shadows.
Because you can’t beat it, motherfuckers.
I flew through the same level, though to my credit, I designed the interface and most of the storyboards, which gives me a slight advantage. Still, since childhood there was no video game I couldn’t beat, no level I couldn’t crack. My friends accused me of cheating and threatened not to play with me. People hate to lose, and I learned a long time ago that there’s always a way to come out on top, no matter the situation. Isn’t that how I finally got the girl?
I wonder what Harley is up to…
She’s been quiet all day, busy training her new replacement, a woman from the Los Angeles office. I flip through the QTK user logs, checking the video conference software to see if Harley is still busy. Harley has no idea I keep tabs on her. One day I will tell her the truth. First, I have to win her heart. I’m not losing our bet. Harley will be in love with me twenty-five days from now, ready to take my last name and fulfill her end of the deal.
Dear Future Ex-wife,
Mrs. Harley King has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Twenty-five days and counting…
P.S. I want to smash cake in your face. Tonight. 7PM.
I hit send and laugh, wishing I were a painting on her wall when she reads my message. Harley will get the hidden message. She asked me last night when Danika was scheduling our cake testing. Five minutes later, a new message from Harley pops into my inbox.
Dear Future Ex-hubs,
Mr. Nathan McQueen rolls off the tip of your tongue, don’t you think? Twenty-five days until GAME OVER…
P.S. Bring your Black Card because tonight I say, “Let them eat cake!”
I cringe at her reference to Marie-Antoinette, a French queen who spent money like it grew on trees. My bank account has already taken a small hit. Harley’s engagement ring wasn’t as expensive as the Princess of Wales’ sapphire, but the replica came close enough.
Harley moans as she chews a bite of the German chocolate cake. The sounds she makes are so overtly sexual, though I doubt she realizes how much she’s turning me on. I never thought eating could be such an experience. But when it comes to Harley, everything is a new experience, and she makes me want to savor all of them.
“I take it you like this one,” I say.
She glances up at me, fork in hand. “Yeah, I’d say so. That was the best chocolate cake I’ve ever tasted. Actually,” she says to Maggie, the caterer, “do you think I could get a glass of milk? This chocolate is so rich I need to cleanse my palate before I taste the next cake.”
The short brunette with rosy cheeks nods. “Of course.”
She walks away, leaving me alone with Harley for the first time all day.
Harley turns to me, dropping her fork on the plate. “Which one do you like?”
I shrug against the chair. “All of them. Doesn’t matter to me.”
“You must’ve liked one more than the others,” she challenges.
“The chocolate one was pretty good.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Pretty good? It was amazing… hell, it was better than sex.”
I laugh at her comment. “You say that now, but wait until after you’ve had sex with me.”
Harley grunts. “That’s not going to happen.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I smirk. “Callie told me about the bet.”
Her mouth falls open in shock. “I can’t believe she told you about that. I had nothing to do with it. That was all Callie.”
I wiggle my eyebrows to taunt her. “Well, you know how much I love a good bet. And Callie hates losing as much as I do, so—”
“She told you to make sure she wins. Lovely. Some maid-of-honor I’ve got,” she says, shaking her head. “Let me guess, you made a bet of your own.”
I hold up my hands and shrug.
She frowns. “Of course, you did. You have the most to gain from this relationship. Why not add fuel to the fire? And by the way, you’re going to lose, King. I meant what I said the other day about the lube.”
