Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
And a locksmith, to be safe.
I know I’m still lying to myself. Still maintaining the illusion that I’ll ever want to see Laine move back into that place. It’s a pretence that irks me, even the thought, but the girl needs to know she’s in good hands, strong hands, hands that can save her from any of life’s unfortunate situations.
And there’s her mother to think about. If you can call the woman a mother in anything other than the biological context.
Anything else? Penny asks, and her smile catches my eye as her pen hovers so eagerly above her notepad. I notice the simple little pendant around her neck, sparking in the light. I notice the perfect pastel pink of her new blouse and the subtlety of her makeup.
“Yes,” I say. “I’d like you to choose me some jewellery. As a gift for someone. Something tasteful.” I pause. “Something you’d like, Penny. Something really special. I trust your judgement.”
The compliment lights up her eyes.
“Sure thing, Mr Lynch,” she says. “Do you have a budget in mind?”
I shake my head. “Something you’d choose for yourself, Penny. Budget is secondary.”
She nods, dithers on the spot a little. I can tell she’s plucking up the courage to pry, and I don’t give her any cues, just stare at her with a professional smile on my face.
“Is she, um…” she finally begins.
“Is she..?”
“A friend?” she asks. “A relative?”
“Both,” I tell her. “She’s someone special.”
She nods. “How old?” she asks, then checks herself. “So I know what style to go for, I mean.”
“Eighteen. Just.”
She looks at me as I say just, and I know she’s wondering.
She doesn’t ask any more questions, but I can say with certainty that my extra-curricular business will be the talk of the photocopier this morning.
That would usually bother me, but not today.
There isn’t one single thing that will bother me today.
I call up my office calendar and mark myself as unavailable from four p.m. from this afternoon.
Sweet little Laine needs to get home safely from college.
And after all, it’s a universal truth. A truth that everyone who is luckily enough to know it is blessed by.
A truth that I’m blessed with for the first time in years.
Family comes first.
In the meantime it’s business as usual.
I ask Penny to bring in my nine a.m. client.
Laine
Nick calls me at lunch. It feels so strange to hear him on the phone. His voice is warm and deep, but there’s a curtness to it. Work Nick.
I imagine him there, partner in some swanky accountancy firm. Solid handshakes and rich clients. I wonder if he has a secretary. I wonder if he has a big team of people hanging onto every word he says. He is the boss after all. Or one of them, at least.
Nick seems like a boss. He’d make a good boss.
Just like he’d make a good daddy.
And a good lover.
I get those crazy flutters again, butterflies in my tummy as I tell him I’m having a nice day, and my sandwiches were lovely. Ham and cheese. Posh ham, really thick cut. Not the watery stuff I buy for myself. I tell him my classes went well. That I’ve been working hard.
He sounds so pleased, and it makes me smile. When I hang up I’m grinning so hard I barely notice Kelly Anne gawping at me.
“New phone,” she says, like it isn’t obvious. “Quite a gift.”
“I’m just borrowing it,” I tell her, and that’s how I see it, too.
She doesn’t say anything, just gives me that look. That grossed-out look. But I don’t care.
I meet Nick in the carpark at half past four, just where he left me. I see people staring at his Mercedes and it makes me feel strange, to be cared for by someone who wears a tailored suit, drives an expensive car and buys thick-sliced ham.
I’ve never had money before. Mum never even had a car. Not that it mattered.
I doubt she’d have driven me anywhere if she had.
Nick tells me he’s had a good day at the office. Many meetings, he says, just an average Monday. I wish I knew what an average Monday was like for him. I wish I knew everything about him, but the questions in my head all sound stupid, and I really don’t want to sound stupid.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, and there’s that kind smile on his face again. He’s interested. I know he’s really interested, and that feels nice.
I shrug. “I was just wondering… about you…”
He laughs, and it’s a lovely sound. “What are you wondering?”
“I dunno, just stuff.” His smile makes me smile. “I just… don’t know anything…”
“About me?” He stops at traffic lights and his hand reaches over to squeeze mine. “You’ll get to know everything, Laine. Just give it time.”
Everything. I like that thought.
“Ask me a question,” he says. “Whatever you like.”