Miss Understanding (The Miss Series Book 1) by Aubrey Bondurant

Author:Aubrey Bondurant [Bondurant, Aubrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-09T18:30:00+00:00

There were no upgrades available. Despite the fact I’d used work as an excuse to try to get her into first class, the truth was I didn’t have anything for her to do during the flight.

As with our outgoing trip, we had a brief layover in Chicago, but we barely had time before boarding another plane. Once we landed in LAX, I waited for her to come down the sky ramp.

“Do you need a ride home?” Since we both lived in South Bay, I figured I could give her a lift.

Although she seemed surprised by my offer, she simply replied with, “No, thanks.”

“I’m in Manhattan Beach, so Torrance isn’t far from me.”

“It’s okay, but thanks. Have a good weekend, Mr. Davenport. I’ll see you Monday in the office.”

I was being dismissed. She sped up and went into the ladies’ room. I briefly spotted her at baggage claim, but she didn’t so much as glance my direction. Instead, she took her suitcases up the escalator to where she was probably catching an Uber home.

Stepping into my empty house after the forty-minute drive in traffic, I waited for the relief over being home to hit me. I’d bought this place as my first major purchase. Three point five million. A view of the beach from the top floor, three bedrooms, three baths. Ultra modern. Just like the Tesla I used to commute to the office every day. Yet neither the vehicle nor the house was giving me the pleasure they normally did upon returning home to them.

I took a hot shower, a short nap, and then ordered in takeout Chinese food while looking at the clock. It was eight in the evening. I imagined Kendall was getting ready for work about now. I should probably put in a couple billable hours to make up for losing so many yesterday, but I didn’t. Instead, I sat there sipping water, trying to talk myself out of what I was about to do.

But considering I was already up and getting dressed, it was clear I wouldn’t be talked out of this. I texted Chance Maxwell, an occasional client, to ask to be put on the list for tonight. Chance was the owner of the Cheetah Club and others like it. I was sure not all of them were above board, especially in the foreign locations, but I didn’t ask, and he certainly didn’t tell me.

His text back came almost immediately. “Consider it done, my friend.”

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