Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
“I do want that,” Aiden insists.
“Then trust that your sister is going to have everything in life that she desires because I believe good things happen to good people. Okay?”
“Okay,” he mutters, then shoots me a petulant look. “It still doesn’t mean I can’t hope you become her boyfriend.”
“You can have your own dreams, kid,” I say with a laugh. “But speaking of your sister, I think I might pop by the deli. I want to see if we can brainstorm a way to get her to the hospital during the day. I think that would make her feel better. Are you okay if she doesn’t stay at night?”
Aiden rolls his eyes. “I never understand why she does that. She just watches me sleep. I’d much rather have her here when I’m awake.”
“That’s good information.” I stand from the bench and Aiden rises as well, taking hold of his IV pole. “First game of the playoffs tomorrow, so I won’t be able to come by. But I’ll be by the day after for just a little bit, okay?”
“You don’t have to,” Aiden says. “The playoffs are more important than me.”
“Nothing’s more important than you, buddy. And I mean that.”
To my surprise, Aiden moves in for a one-armed side hug and I squeeze him back gently. The way my heart thumps tells me that this kid has become far more ingrained into that organ than I’d thought possible. I’m immeasurably lucky to have him in my life.
CHAPTER 9
Lilly
Reaching into my desk drawer, I pull out a bottle of ibuprofen and pop three pills. My head is pounding because I didn’t get enough sleep last night.
“Still worth it,” I murmur to myself, helpless to stop the smile as I remember just how much fun I had at the game, hanging out with Boone and his friends and then our talk on my apartment landing. I actually felt like me last night. Or at least the me I envision I could be one day as I accomplish the five bucket list items Boone teased out of me.
I squint at my laptop screen and the spreadsheet, wishing I had enough money to buy a larger monitor I could attach to it. A lot of my job is done on the computer, and while I’ve become a whiz at Excel over the years and use it to track almost every aspect of the business, it sucks analyzing cell data on such a small window.
I’m going through our current inventory list, looking at items that will be expiring so I can put them on sale to make room for next Monday’s deliveries. I do this every Thursday and I hate it.
There’s a knock on my door and I lift my head to see Georgie standing there. My second-longest employee next to our day cook Charles, Georgie looks barely eighteen despite the fact he just turned twenty-seven. Along with his youthful looks, he sometimes has the maturity of a teenager, but he’s good-hearted and will do anything I ask.
“What’s up?” I ask with a welcoming smile.
“You have a visitor out front,” he says, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. “Same guy that came by a few days ago.”
My eyebrows slingshot up in surprise as I rise from my desk. “Boone?”
Georgie shrugs. “Dom said he was a professional hockey player.”
Yeah… Dom would know. He’s a newer employee and handles the case orders during the day but he’ll talk sports all day long with the customers. Georgie, to my knowledge, doesn’t watch sports.
I move past Georgie out of the small box of an office, through the kitchen and into the front of the restaurant. Boone’s standing on the other side of the display case casually chatting up one of my customers who I note is wearing a Titans’ ball cap, but his gaze comes to me as soon as I step out of the kitchen.
His smile is dazzling and my breath catches. “Can you spare a few minutes for me?” he asks.
Hours if I had it to give, I think. I nod and wave him back.
Boone follows me through the kitchen, looking around in interest. Charles jolts when he spots us and curses, his hand holding a spatula over a sizzling pile of pastrami with melted cheese on top. “Holy hell. Boone Rivers.”
“Are you the man responsible for that excellent Reuben I had the other day?”
Charles flushes and nods.
Boone curls his hand into a fist and presses it to his chest. “From the bottom of my heart, man, it was the best I ever had.”
Turning beet red, Charles says, “I can make you another.”
“I’m good, buddy,” Boone says with a grin. “Another time though.”
I shake my head, a smile on my face that Boone can’t see as I lead him into my office. He has the uncanniest way of making people feel good about themselves. I have no clue if that was the best Reuben he ever had, but he wanted Charles to feel good about it and that is a quality I adore. I like nice people.