Chapter 3

Ablack envelope lays on my desk.

Triple W Communications

Legal Department

1200 Shore Dr

Miami, FL

I slice it open with my fillet knife while mumbling to myself, "Who the hell is Triple W Communications?"

Dear Big O Excursions,

This letter serves to inform you to cease and desist the slanderous video displayed on your website that presents the CEO of Triple W Communications in a negative light.

If the activity continues, we will immediately seek a temporary restraining order against you and any accomplices in the District Court of Miami-Dade County. We will seek monetary damages in court. Hopefully, we will not have to resort to this option. We have to protect our assets and will do so vigorously.

Failure to comply in writing within ten days will automatically trigger a lawsuit.

Isaac Cooperman, Esq.

Isaac Cooperman, Esq.

Triple W Communications

Oh, hell no.

"Orlando!" I shout. He's in the back office, preparing for tomorrow. A bachelor party booked our small yacht—like the smallest money can buy or in my case borrow.

He steps into my office. "Yes, ma'am."

I love his manners, despite having grown up without a parent. He's twenty and has been like a little brother to me for the past ten years. My grandfather always said giving was the catalyst for fulfillment, and I was devoid of anything but sadness until I saw a sign posted at the coffee shop. Be the Big Brother or Big Sister you always wanted to be. I signed up, submitted to a drug test and background check. During the interview, I asked if they had any kids who dreamed of sailing on the ocean, and that's when they paired me with Orlando.

"Who brought this letter?" I hold up the black envelope.

"It was delivered by courier while you were still at the marina."

Without exchanging another word, I type in the company name on my computer. A banner displaying a contest pops up immediately.

Spend a Day with Winslow Worthington and Have a Chance at One Million Dollars.

I can't help my snort.

Just like a rich man to go pimping himself out, in a pathetic attempt to circumvent all the bad press surrounding him right now.

For the next two days, I can't get this man, this company, or the cease-and-desist letter out of my mind. I've hired a lawyer to go over my options, which has cost me three grand for the retainer fee.

I open the website again, staring at the screen with details on how to enter.

Write a letter stating something you believe was done to you unfairly or something that affected you in your pursuit of happiness or business. Mr. Worthington will choose five women's stories to delve into deeper. If you're chosen, Mr. Worthington will work side by side with you for a day. At the end of the day, Mr. Worthington may offer you one million dollars.

An idea pops into my head.

Wearing out the mildewed, faded carpet in my office, I chew on a pencil. The damn thing looks like a beaver got hold of it. I stare out the window at the marina from my steel building, and it hits me. I'm writing in.

Do I need a million dollars? Yes.

Do I want to spend an entire day with an arrogant asshole? No.

Okay, yes. It's a firm maybe.

It's possible to hate someone but still want to feel the weight of their body on top of you.

I wouldn't mind seeing those eyes in real life. He had them hidden on the fishing tour, but now that I see his eyes, I can't seem to stop looking at him online. Half of the time, I seethe; the other half, I wonder if the rest of his body is as ripped as his forearms.

Do I want to give him a big fuck you for not listening to me and then siccing his company lawyers on me? Absolutely.

I click on the form to fill out.

Name: Cameron

Age: 28

Occupation: Self-employed

Dear Mr. Worthington,

Thank you for taking the time to read my letter. As an entrepreneur myself, I understand how valuable your time must be, so I'm going to make this short.

Over the last six years, I've built a business that is not only my livelihood but also a tie to my past.

Recently, I uploaded a video to my website of one of my clients in an effort to prepare people for the experience I provide. Unfortunately, within a few days, I received a letter from his attorneys demanding that I take it down, or they will bury me in legal fees. I'm already out three thousand dollars for my own lawyer. I realize that's probably one night's dinner for a man like you, but for a hardworking, blue-collar woman like me, three thousand dollars is my savings—it's my emergency fund and all I have.

The jerk agreed to my terms and conditions when he booked my company. I'm at a loss and would appreciate your help. I'll be happy to meet you for coffee after my morning yoga routine. Don't worry about paying for a thousand-calorie coffee; I like it stiff as it comes.

I hope to make it in your top five. I know you'll find the full story interesting.

Sincerely,

Cameron

If he actually reads the letters, he's going to notice I left out the word "as" in "I like it as stiff as it comes." I crack myself up sometimes. He'll think sexually like any guy, but it could be an innocent mistake. It's not; I'm going to fry him and his company on national television.