Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
“I do want to experience New York, Hale, but I want to experience it with you.” I nudged the side of his shoe with my socked foot.
His frustration morphed into understanding and then regret. “Baby, these business meetings have been planned for months. I can’t reschedule.”
“I know. And I appreciate you trying to make the best out of a difficult situation, but I honestly don’t think I could enjoy an extended stay in such a big, foreign city if you and Elara aren’t there to share it with me.”
“Then you won’t. We’ll have the planners take care of everything.”
I pouted, unsure if that was the best solution.
He moved to the seat beside mine and lifted the armrest. Reaching across my body, he unbuckled the seatbelt and pulled me into his side. “I love you. I don’t want to fight.”
I nestled into the crook of his arm. “I’m not trying to make things more difficult.”
“You’re not.” His hand rubbed slowly up and down my arm as we sat in silence.
I realized then that I needed a break from wedding-gate. Just one day when we didn’t talk about mood boards or gowns or anything else having to do with getting married. I just wanted to be plain old Hale and Rayne again.
I stared down at my hands, one ring finger glistening with a diamond large enough to take down the Titanic and another ring finger adorned with a platinum band and a delicate diamond anchor. My thumb caressed the anchor lovingly. Just a few more months and then these rocky seas would calm.
Man-splaining and Martinis
“Give me something else to do.”
Remington glanced up from his iPad, suspiciously gauging my motives over the narrow, rimless lenses of his Gold & Wood eyeglasses. “It’s six o’clock, Meyers. Go home.”
I’d checked in with Andrew an hour ago and informed him I’d be working late. He promised to give Elara dinner and a bath before putting her to bed. There was no real reason for me to remain at Remington’s. Even Myles had clocked out and gone home. But I was operating in full-throttled procrastination and would rather work here than go home and work on wedding-gate.
I lowered to the sofa and sat beside my future father-in-law. “What are you watching?”
He glanced over at me again and frowned. “What’s going on with you?”
I so badly wanted to talk to him about Hale and the prenup, but I’d made a vow—for the sake of my relationship with his son—not to concern Remington in big relationship issues. At least not before giving Hale a chance to address matters first.
I was, after all, marrying Hale, not his father. Their relationship was already volatile and I didn’t want to make matters worse.
Plus, Remington would probably view a prenuptial agreement as a necessity. He wouldn’t see the issue from my side, or understand how such a contract could be so toxic to a marriage. So there would be no satisfaction in discussing such matters with him.
But I still wasn’t leaving. We didn’t have to talk about my problems for him to help me avoid them.
I shifted a pillow and made myself comfortable. “We hardly spend any time together anymore.”
“We see each other every day, Meyers. I have parts of my own body I see less than your face.”
I twisted my lips, unable to deny it.
Removing his reading glasses, he sat back and studied me. “Why don’t you tell me what’s actually going on?”
Sinking deeper into the sofa, I groaned. “I’m sick of talking about the wedding and if I go home, I’m going to have to face the huge pile of wedding crap that’s suddenly become my life.”
He chuckled, the gruff, craggy sound condoling and familiar. “I was wondering when you were going to crack.” He slid his iPad away and sat back. “Doesn’t my son realize you’re the kind of woman who—”
I cut him off. “I swear to God, Remington, if you say something offensive that compares my situation to slapping lipstick on a pig or worse, I may cry. I’m overly fragile at the moment.”
The engagement had made me hyper-aware of all my shortcomings and the last thing I needed was more criticism.
He rolled his eyes. “I was going to say, you are who you are.”
“Oh.” Well, that was rather sweet and accepting of him. “You’re right about that.”
“But if you need some fortune cookie bullshit to feel validated, here it is. A fox can turn from auburn to silver, but changing the coat doesn’t change its nature.”
I thought about the fox analogy for a moment, not finding it insulting. It was actually pretty accurate since I was being dressed up in furs and diamonds but underneath it all I was still just plain Rayne.
“See? You get me.”
“Try not to act so feeble-hearted. The world has enough snowflakes. Rise above the emotional baggage, toughen up, and do what needs to be done. Leave your feelings at the door. That’s how success is achieved.”