Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 139147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
He wasn’t the only one.
“I pointed in Deb’s face and got up in her shit, and I wish I hadn’t. This isn’t on her.”
“Sweetheart,” he said, still smiling. “She wasn’t mad at you about that. She was pissed as all hell at me. Why’d you think I came to your place last night? I was being a coward and saying you needed time. But she kicked me out of our casita and told me, if I didn’t go see if you were okay, and at least make some attempt to start a conversation, she was starting divorce proceedings.”
Just then, I remembered how much I liked Deb.
She was sweet, but she also had spirit.
I spooned up gelato. “Did she mean it?”
“I don’t honestly know. She doesn’t need me around to do the yardwork anymore.”
That was when I started laughing.
“The man is intense,” Dad noted. “But I like your boyfriend.”
Yes. Yes, definitely.
It was time to move on to better things.
I grinned at him. “I do too.”
“One thing I can say about that guy, he’s no clown.”
“He totally is not.”
“Why do you call him Cap?”
“I didn’t make it up, but it’s his nickname. Everyone calls him that because he looks like Captain America.”
Dad burst out laughing, and through it said, “Shit. He does.” He spooned up some pistachio. “Who was that girl with you?”
I told him about Luna. And then about Scott and Louise, which led me to Dream. Also Tex, Nancy and Shirleen. And Jessie and Harlow. I told him about The Surf Club. I told him about Oasis Square and everyone there.
While I was telling him all of this, Dad ate up more than just gelato.
And in the midst of it, Tex and Tito got up and went to the El Camino.
I had to stop talking when I was drowned out by “Smoke on the Water” blasting out of the El Camino’s windows.
But after it faded away, I kept talking.
And my dad kept listening.
NINETEEN
WONDERS OF THE SISTERHOOD
I flew through the door of my apartment and saw Cap in the kitchen, his head coming up, eyes on me.
I skipped through the room, tossing the heavy bags I was carrying on the armchair, which made Patches go flying with an angry, “Meow!”
“Sorry, Patches,” I sing-songed as I took a page out of Alexis’s book, skipped to the kitchen and took a flying leap on Cap.
But I went for front to front, not the side, so he caught me with both hands on my ass.
My way was better.
“So after gelato, Dad took me shopping,” I announced.
Cap shifted, set my ass on the counter, but didn’t move away, so I kept my arms and legs curled around him.
“Yeah?” he asked, his lips tipped up.
“Yeah. We went to Sephora, and he bought me loads of new makeup and hair stuff and perfume. Then we went to Anthropologie, and he bought me new candles and two new dresses and a top. And then we went to Saks, and there he bought me my very first, not-secondhand, or on sale, designer handbag. A Fendi First in patent pink!”
“So my girl’s totally taking advantage of the guilt trip,” he teased.
“Totally.” I smiled, knowing he knew that wasn’t what it was, but still, I explained, “When we were leaving Frost, I mentioned that I needed to pop by Sephora to grab some mascara, and he instigated it by asking if he could come with. I knew he was trying to prolong our time, not only asking to come along, but encouraging me to stock up on things I might need and spoil myself a little. And he made excuses that Deb would never forgive him if he didn’t pay for everything. Though, Saks was his idea. He saw the bag earlier with Deb, and she remembered my clutch from last night. She told him she thought that I’d like it. So I think the whole thing was an excuse to get me to the Fendi boutique at Saks so he could buy it for me.”
“Awesome,” he murmured. “So I take it this means your chat went well?”
I pressed my forehead tight to his, fighting tears.
Happy ones this time.
Cap helped by deducing, “It went well.”
I nodded, my forehead rolling against his.
He shifted his chin so he could touch his mouth to mine.
When he moved away, I shared, “He wants to know if we want to try Lon’s again tomorrow or go somewhere else.” I belatedly sniffed the air. “What do I smell?”
“The bourbon molasses marinade the salmon fillets are in.”
I mean…
Seriously.
Where did this guy come from?
“How about I cook for us here?” he suggested.
“I only have two barstools.”
“We can take the food down to one of the patio tables in the courtyard.”
“I’m not sure Dad would be feeling being on display to the Oasis, honey. His first time spent here wasn’t the greatest.”