Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Them being my siblings and every other New York transplant.
“You know, my sister and brother aren’t the worst things in this town. They’re super annoying, but they kind of grow on you after a while.”
He lopes over to an armoire and flings it open. An orange cat flies out making Jarrett cackle. “Damn cat.”
“Is this what you do all day in here? Bitch about the Kincaids and play hide-n-seek with Candy Corn?”
“His name’s Ebenezer.”
“I’d fucking hide from you too.”
He scowls at me. I scowl right back. Finally, he cracks a grin that reveals the small gap in his teeth. “You here to dazzle me with your teenage angst? It’s about time. I needed some privileged rich boy whine to go with my cheese.”
I cock a brow at him, but he disappears behind a bookcase. When he reappears, the fucker has cheese. For real.
“Crazy fool is what you are,” I say, shaking my head, but indeed help myself to the cheese. “Where’d this come from?”
“Imported from France.”
“Now who’s the fancy fucker?”
“Ha. Fine, it came from a dairy farm in Wisconsin, and I picked it up at the grocery store. Why are you here? To bust my chops? I thought we were tight, kiddo. Like Ren and Stimpy.”
“Ren and who?”
“Before your time.”
I ignore his rambling and plop down on the cozy chaise I’ve had my eye on for months, dropping my bags beside it. Jarrett’s eyes narrow on my Docs. Shoving the cheese into my mouth, I unlace my boots before kicking out of them and then curl up on the chaise.
“I love this chair.”
“Tell your chair goodbye. I sold it today.”
Disappointment floods through me. I’d actually come in here with the intent to finally buy it. Guess some things aren’t meant to be.
“It’s just a chair. Don’t look like someone kicked your puppy.”
“I don’t have a puppy,” I grumble.
“Ox?”
“If you kick Ox, he farts.”
“Want to talk about it, son?” Jarrett asks, adopting a deep, fatherly tone.
We both crack up because he’s an idiot.
“Do you ever feel stuck?” I murmur, unable to meet his eyes. “Like you’re trapped in someone else’s world? Their life? Like you never had a choice but to dance on the strings that’re holding you?“
Jarrett smacks my feet off the chaise and sits down. Ebenezer—poor fucking cat—hops into his lap, clearly unaware of his horrible name, begging for his ears to be scratched. Jarrett strokes the cat and leans his head back to stare up at the ceiling. I follow his gaze to a water stain and cringe. He really should call Hans out to fix that shit. It’s unsightly.
“No.”
“No, what?”
“No to your question. This is my life. I like it.”
I find that hard to believe. He’s alone. Just him and his shop cats and his store full of furniture that once belonged to someone else.
“Right,” I mutter. “You’re old. You wouldn’t understand all my angsty teenage woes. You probably came out of the womb old.”
He shrugs. “I prefer wise.”
Before I can argue, the door to his antique store opens, sending random cats scattering for shelter and a sudden chilly breeze my way. I crane my neck to see who’s come in. As soon as I recognize the face, my blood runs cold.
“Mr. Townsend,” Jarrett says in his fake customer service voice that drips with disdain. “Lovely seeing you in here today. What can I get you?” He rises to his feet and ambles over to Ned Townsend.
Hank’s dad.
A full-bodied shudder trembles through me. Ned is harmless compared to his son. He’d done his part to distance himself from his son’s hate crimes so the community wouldn’t shun him. But I’ve seen the way he looks at my brother and me.
Like we’re vermin.
Like it’s our fault his son is in prison.
I swallow down the bile in my throat, choosing to stare at Ebenezer, who’s now sitting next to an old table, his orange tail lashing furiously. The cat’s more pissed about Ned being in his store than the awful name his cat daddy gave him.
“I’m looking for a lamp. For my wife,” Ned says. “For her reading room.”
I will myself to be invisible, but when you’re dressed in head-to-toe yellow with a sack full of paint and are sprawled out on a lovely chaise lounge, you’re kind of hard to miss.
“Oh, what about this one?” Ned asks, making his way over toward me.
Just yellow clothes, not the actual sun, man.
He steps closer to Ebenezer, who hisses at him and takes a swipe at his pressed slacks. Ned doesn’t quite kick the cat, but he does more or less shove it away from him as he picks up the lamp. I lift my gaze to find the man glaring at me while Jarrett stands by, clearly unaware of the animosity in his stare.
Gritting my teeth, I look away. I’ll say something rude, and the last thing Dante needs is me making more trouble for him. Instead, I stare down at Miley’s face peeking through my open coat.