Witches of London - Eagle's Shadow by Aleksandr Voinov & Jordan Taylor

Author:Aleksandr Voinov & Jordan Taylor [Voinov, Aleksandr & Taylor, Jordan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
Amazon: B01N4NFUPZ
Barnesnoble: B01N4NFUPZ
Goodreads: 33284517
Publisher: 44 Raccoons
Published: 2017-02-03T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Due to having gone to bed way too early and being still jet-lagged, Tom was awake in the gray hours of the morning. Weekend. Newsletter. He’d almost forgotten. Time to set up his laptop and start pulling that together, copying and pasting in bits and pieces he had prewritten whenever they had occurred to him. He proofread the whole thing again, added hyperlinks, then changed the order of some stories.

He was almost done when he got a text: Breakfast nearly ready. Are you awake?

I’ll come down in a bit.

The newsletter was already late. If he focused for another twenty minutes, he would get it all done and sent. He hurried, images of bacon and hash browns floating through his mind.

Finally to the large screen of the web-based program that sent the newsletter. Hit “send” and, while the program ran through the thousands of emails to be sent, he washed his face, brushed his teeth, and threw some clothes on. By the time he was back to the desk, the program told him it had successfully sent all the emails. Perfect day so far.

As Tom made his way downstairs to the dining room, he heard two male voices. One was Sanders, another was deeper. Business on a Saturday morning? Then again, Tom had just been working.

Sanders looked up and smiled at him when Tom reached the archway. “Good morning.” He even stood again, but Tom knew better than to accuse him of anything while in company.

The second man was tall when he stood, taller than Sanders by half a head, and looked maybe fifty—dark-haired, trimmed dark beard, but all halfway to silver. He looked fit as hell, very attractive if you liked the tall, dark, hairy type. Tom currently had a preference for pale, elegant blonds. Though he had fluctuated before.

“Morning.” Tom offered his hand. “Tom Welsh.” He was so used to meeting people and making introductions, he hardly caught himself slipping into his “reporter” voice.

“Evan.” His smile was easy, relaxed and confident. The grip felt warm and again self-assured. “Sanders has told me a lot about you.”

Yes, a business guy then. Sanders had been telling him about the journal, presumably. Sanders couldn’t have mentioned as much in his text? That they had company?

Tom felt awkward about showing up to a business breakfast in jeans and a knit pullover. At least the stranger had also dressed, if not as casual, at least sans suit. Nice slacks and a well-fitting sweater the color of Merlot. Sanders wore a button down, which, Tom now assumed, was casual to him since it did not include a tie or vest. The man must have a wardrobe like a cartoon character.

Sanders indicated a place setting for Tom, sitting back down to his own part-finished breakfast at the head of the table.

Francesca had gone with a continental theme—different kinds of bread and spreads, all beautifully laid out and decorated with fresh fruit. Tom had barely settled in next to Sanders, opposite Evan, when Francesca appeared with more food.

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