Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 130255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
“Like eating a cupcake after a salad.” Pen nodded. “I understand that.”
Max shook his head.
“It’s ten till five. Since this is the last time you’re gracing me with your presence, I’ll take your food order a little earlier so it’ll be the first one made.” Pen whipped a notebook out of her pocket and clicked the top of a pen. “What can I get you?”
I slipped my order in right before Max and grinned at him since I’d beaten him to the punch. He told Penny what he wanted to eat then turned to me.
“Want to grab a table instead of sitting at the bar?” he asked.
I raised my eyebrows. “You do know I came here to see Penny and not you, don’t you?”
“The bar it is.” He smiled, resting his forearm on it in front of him so his upper body was turned towards me. “Unless you want me to leave you alone?”
“You’re here now.” I took a small sip of my wine, smiling behind the glass. “It’s almost as if you’re stalking me.”
“Me, stalking? Never.”
“If you say so.”
“Did you really finish the book?”
I slowly nodded. “Like I said, I have to do a read through. I have a couple of minor things to change and some things to check like eye colours and names of side characters, but that won’t take too long.”
“And then?”
“And then I go home.” I gave him a tight smile. “My parents will be here in four days. It’s a long drive back, and I want to rest and unpack before my mother comes over and points out all the things I’m doing wrong and complains about how I’ve decorated since she last visited. Winston will need to settle again, too.”
Max chuckled, dipping his head. “She complains about your décor?”
“She’s a minimalist. She subscribes to that nonsense about keeping a certain number of books in your house. I have them everywhere and it drives her crazy.”
“Let me guess. You bought more books.”
“In my defence, I’m always buying books.”
“Do you read them all?”
“No.”
“So why do you buy them?”
“I’m not sure a man with two libraries can criticise me for having books I’ll never read.”
His laugh sent a little shiver down a spine. “Mine came with the house.”
“Pfft,” I huffed out.
“Besides, my book collection has been amassed over a considerable number of years. We have some on loan to a museum because they’re so old.”
I side-eyed him. “No need to brag.”
He knocked his foot against mine with a lopsided grin on his face. “You know, you—”
“What’s this? Some kind of goodbye dinner nobody invited me to? The audacity of it.” Esme hobbled up to the bar and used her stick to pull a stool closer to her where she promptly sat down. “Maximillian. You didn’t tell me about this.”
He pressed his lips together.
“I came to say goodbye to Penny,” I told her. “He wasn’t exactly invited.”
“Well, if we’re crashing, I might as well stay. Penny! Get your grandmother a gin!”
Penny froze, then dropped her chin to her chest. Her shoulders rose and fell with what I assumed was a sigh, and I sank my teeth into my lower lip so I wouldn’t laugh out loud.
“Yes, Grandma,” she replied, promptly turning around and grabbing a gin glass on her way.
“And none of that single serve nonsense! I want a real gin!” Esme demanded, rapping her walking stick on the floor.
I picked up my glass to hide my smile and dipped my chin a little bit.
“I can’t believe you didn’t invite me. Max I understand, but me? Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?” Esme asked me, prodding her lime green nail into my lower arm.
Her extraordinarily long nail.
Max frowned. “Your nails are… interesting.”
Esme opened her mouth, presumably to tell him to shut his, then paused and looked down at them.
They were long. Kardashian-long. Can’t-wipe-your-own-arse long.
“They’re a bit long,” I said softly. “I do like the colour though.”
“Mm.” Esme wrinkled her nose.
“What the bloody hell are those talons?” Penny asked, putting Esme’s gin down. She reached out and grabbed her hand, frowning at the nails. “Was this what you were doing at May’s house earlier? Oh, Grandma! You didn’t.”
I had no idea what was going on, and judging by the look on Max’s face, he didn’t either.
“Explain,” Max said after a moment.
Esme sighed. “May’s granddaughter is training to be a nail painter person.”
“A nail technician,” I muttered.
“Whatever they’re called,” she continued. “Back in my day, we just painted them ourselves. Now there are fancy purple lights and sticky gems and… this.” She flapped her hand. “I agreed to a nice manicure with a simple jelly paint in a nice light blue.”
“Gel, not jelly,” Pen pointed out.
“And I got this.” Esme wriggled her fingers. “I can live with the green, but how am I supposed to pop my pills with these things? I’ll send my blood pressure meds flying through the room and take out someone’s eye.”