A flirty bartender entraps two men, an average guy and a billionaire. She's sought after by both men, who desire her. Madison Hart is outspoken, determined, and set on marriage. Madison is rushed into a new world of lust, temptation, pain, emotion...
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The doctor hands me a tiny cup and a pill. "For the nerves."
"Thank you."
"Are we doing this?" Lily asks from the phone. "We need to hurry."
I look at my phone on the nightstand and ponder. If I call, I know Jace will say, told you so. He'll be insufferable. But time is ticking; there aren't any other options. Brad is going to cause damage at the speed he's going. Jace is the only choice. "I don't have his number..."
"Mr. Harrison is at Strygent labs. It's best to not bother him. Any emergency can be handled by law enforcement." The doc advises. "I suggest you call the police to handle your friend."
"We'd rather not do that," Lil argues. "Can you just give us his number? This is an emergency."
"As I said, the police are your only option." The lady says sternly before walking to the door. "Now rest, Madison. You've overworked yourself." She leaves for the door and closes it behind her.
Lil huffs like a bull. "Fucking bitch! Ring the bell for Helen. There has to be a way to contact him."
Jess taps the bell five times and strolls to the door to open it. She glances down the hall with the bell in her hand. She repeats the ringing again. The sound of shoes tap from down the hall. "There she is," Jess says, relieved. She beckons to the maid to speed up her pace. Helen's footsteps hasten. "We need help. Can we have Jace Harrison's number?"
Helen halts at the door. "Is it that bad??"
"Yes," Both my girls say.
"Mr. Harrison did say to contact him if there's an emergency."
"This is a high-level emergency." Lil clarifies.
"Very well, I'll summon the assistant. She's the only one who can share private information." She hustles from the room.
I reach for the phone and dial Brad. "Maybe he'll pick up, and Jace doesn't have to get involved." My voice is jittery. The call goes straight to voicemail. I try three more times only to get the same result. The sound of heels hitting the wood floors distracts me.
A red-haired woman in a two-tone dress catwalks into the room. She has an hourglass figure and huge breasts. "I was told that you require the host's number."
I place the phone on my lap and nod. "Yes, I do."
The woman evaluates me from head to toe in a judgmental fashion. I can't tell if she's envious or jealous. "I'm sure you're aware of his schedule. There's no guarantee your call will be a priority." She says with intentional superiority.
"Stop with your insecurities. We don't have time for them. Give us the damn number. If you don't, Mr. Harrison will hear about your hospitality." Lil derides from the phone.
She nastily ranks my appearance with detesting eyes. "Of course, wonderful guests." The lady nears me in the bodycon dress. "The phone, please." I hand it over. The assistant types in numbers, then gives it back. "Good luck..." She emphasizes her hips in a swing as she leaves.
