The Track (THE BLACKMOORE BROTHERS #4) by Martina Dale EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Martina Dale
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Drew
I hate a lot of things in life, but charity dinners are right at the top of the list.
I hate all the pompous assholes who look down their pointy fucking noses
at me all because I’m an American.
They despise me even more because my own personal wealth probably
outstrips the whole lot of them put together. Not that I show off or brag. I’m
probably the least flamboyant in the room. It doesn’t matter what the hell
they think of me; as long as my mom and dad are proud, that’s all I give a
shit about.
Two hours is my maximum time limit for this type of event. I arrive last, eat
the mass-produced food, have a couple of drinks, and then leave as soon as
I’ve deposited my cheque into the donation box.
I have two reasons for attending: first and foremost, to piss off everyone
else in the room, and second, to support the charities that need my help.
Some of the charities I’ve never heard of, but I want to spread some of my
wealth around where it matters.
As usual, the event is being held in one of the big hotels just out of town.
Big chandeliers, and chairs covered in white cloth with stupid bows
attached to the backs. Fuck, I hope I’m not paying for all this shit.
I’m standing at the bar minding my own business waiting for a drink when I
feel a tap on my shoulder, and as I turn around, I’m completely speechless.
“Mr. Blackmoore?” the stunning brunette asks, and I nod my head in
response. “May I ask if you wouldn’t mind changing tables this evening? I
would really like the opportunity to network with the people on your table,
and I’ve been placed with people I already have strong connections with,”
the beautiful woman in a bright-red satin dress, ruby-red lips, and eyes as
dark as night asks me politely.
I clear my throat and compose myself quickly. “May I ask who you are
already seated with?”
“Oh, of course, I’m supposed to be on the table with George and Felicity
Walker, Mary and Walter Beauchamp, and Thomas and Carol Doyle.”
“And you don’t like them? Am I right?” I ask, raising my eyebrow. Her tale
of wanting to network is exactly that . . . a tale.
“Well . . . Thomas and Carol are my parents, and I don’t really want to
spend the evening listening to them say how I’m the biggest letdown since
—”
“Okay, okay. I’ll switch. But on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You tell me your name and give me your number.” I give her my signature
smile, the one that usually gets me whatever the hell I please.
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