Slave to Love Read Online Free Page A

of stuff. We should pick a select group of clients and make a client event out of it. I’ll have Beverly and Monica put together a strategic list of their local clients to attend.
    Invite Lundström
    I was thinking logistically it would be best as an event for local west coast clients, I respond.
    Invite Lundström
    I know better than to push any further or Kemp will blow.
    Sitting on a chair on the balcony, I put my feet up on the wrought-iron railing. My hotel robe falls open and I laugh aloud. Yup, I’m going to call this man half naked. He won’t have a clue, but I will.
    “Lundström.” He picks up on the first ring.
    Even though I’m calling him, I’m startled, “Hale, hi, it’s Sierra Stone, Kemp Mc…”
    He cuts me off, “Hey Sierra, thanks for getting back to me. We’re done here, close the door on your way out,” he says to someone on his end. “How are you?”
    How am I? The man wants something because he clearly doesn’t give a shit how I am. This is the very same man who wouldn’t shake my hand or acknowledge my presence upon meeting me.
    “Great. What can I help you with?” I can’t do small talk with this guy. He makes me nervous. And now that I have the Special Ops tidbit of information in my brain, I’m really intimidated.
    “I’m pulling together an event that needs to stay under the radar.”
    “Okay. Can you tell me what kind of event?” What the fuck does that have to do with me?
    “It’s a very high level, very private tech think tank, C-Level execs of tech companies domestically and internationally and energy and technology foreign ministers.”
    “Okay.” There’s a silence. “I’m not sure what you’re asking me. Do your marketing/events staff and PR people need the names of some folks on the ground in Austin to pull it together?”
    “Because of the sensitivity of subject matter, the high profile of attendees, and the security necessary for the participants, this needs to be approached in a very different manner,” he pauses. “Let’s discuss it over dinner tonight.”
    “Are you in Austin?” I’m shocked. This whole thing is coming out of left field. Why is he talking to me about it? This is not my area of expertise and SpaceCloud is not my account.
    “I flew in last night. How’s 7 P.M. at Uchi?”
    “Hale, I’m in Los Angeles working with my team out here this week and as much as everyone raves about Tyson Cole’s cooking, I’m not a sushi person.”
    Silence.
    “When do you get back?”
    “Late Thursday night.” I’m actually hoping he’ll be gone by then.
    “Okay, I’ll see you then.” And he hangs up on me.
    What the hell is it with men hanging up on me today, I wonder? Ugh, now I have to reach out to him about the Universal Studios event.
    Are you free on August 7 th ? I text him. We have a table at an event honoring the armed forces and would love for you to be our guest. It’s in Los Angeles.
    Will you be there?
    Yes. Universal Studios (where the event takes place) is my client.
    OK, it’s in my calendar. See you Thursday night.
    And here I am, lying on a chaise lounge on my hotel balcony overlooking the ocean, cool morning breezes licking my exposed hotel robe warmed skin, left totally high and dry by Hale Lundström and picturing him licking my nipples instead of the ocean borne breeze doing the job.
    Yes, I admit it, I’m intrigued that he wants me on his special project, excited that I get to work with him, confounded by his sudden interest in me (which might not really be interest in me – that could all be in my head), and scared to death by how much real estate he’s occupied in my head since first setting eyes on him at the St. Regis.

    The text appears on my phone the minute I hit the runway in Austin and flick off airplane mode.
    Welcome back. I’ll meet you at the 24 Hour Diner on 6 th and Lamar.
    Driving downtown, I’m downright nervous. This man makes me so uncomfortable that I don’t have butterflies in my stomach, I