Sinner By Sierra Simone EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Sierra Simone
- Language: English
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
ARMANI TUXEDO, Berluti shoes, Burberry watch.
Blue eyes, blond hair, a mouth a little too wickedly wide.
Yeah, I know I look good as I step out of my Audi R8 and walk into the
I know it, the valet taking my keys knows it, the girl working the
complimentary bar knows it. I give her the classic Bell dimple as I take a
scotch from her, and she blushes. And then I turn and face the crowd of
milling wealth, sipping my Macallan and thinking about where to start first.
Because tonight is my fucking victory lap.
First of all, I inked the Keegan deal this afternoon—which is this sexy
stack of papers transferring a deserted downtown block of nothing to a New
York developer—and my God, you would not believe the money these
people have. It’s not normal money.
It’s like oil money. It’s not only making
my firm a shit-ton, but it’s going to anchor my position at Valdman and
Associates, just in time for Valdman to retire and need someone to sit in that
coveted corner office and count all the gold coins.
Second of all, I inked the deal, not Charles Northcutt—fuck that guy—
and I would like to rub it in his stupid face tonight. I know he’ll be here
because he can’t resist free drinks and bored trophy wives.
And third of all, I’ve been clocking a lot of late nights on the Keegan
thing, which has severely cut into my sex life, and I’m hard up for it. I’ve got
a few regulars saved to my phone and there’s always the exclusive club I’m a
member of, but tonight’s my victory lap. That deserves something special.
I take another look around the room—Valdman’s in the corner with his
wife, laughing and red-faced even though the benefit’s only just started, and
Northcutt is right at his elbow, of course.
But tonight is mine, and there are gorgeous women everywhere, and
maybe I’m just another white guy with too much money in a sea of white
guys with too much money, but I’ve got the advantage.
I’m a sinner with a
dimpled smile and perfect hair, and I know how to make sin feel like heaven.
I swallow my scotch, set the glass down, and head off into the fray.
AN HOUR LATER, I feel a nudge at my elbow.
“Dad’s here. Just so you know.”
I turn to see a man my age offering me another drink and giving me a
convenient excuse to lean away from my current conversation and examine
Sure enough, Elijah Iverson’s father is across the room, surrounded by the
usual cluster of hospital mega-donors and society leeches. Dr. Iverson is the
physician-in-chief of the hospital’s cancer center and an ever-present figure at
these kinds of events, so I shouldn’t be surprised he’s here, but my skin
tightens uncomfortably all the same, sending prickles of heat down the back
of my neck. I close my eyes, and for a minute, I hear the clatter of casserole
dishes and my father’s raised voice.
Elijah’s mother murmuring pleadingly.
And I can still smell all of those flowers, white and cloying and needy,
funeral flowers for a funeral that shouldn’t have been needed.
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