Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Honestly, when I heard what Tammy was making, I was almost convinced that I, myself, was in the wrong field.
I figured it wasn’t exactly the right time to tell my kid that I expected her to go to college and get a job where she, you know, kept her clothes on.
I hadn’t been scrimping and saving and shopping sales and wearing clothes from sixteen years ago to get a decent college savings going for her only for her to not go.
But the college talk was going to wait for when she wasn’t so actively volatile.
So, yeah, I was probably just a little… fragile as a whole. So my boss ranting and raving at me for over an hour because one of the maids had neglected to change the sheets in one of the suites after it was requested had a headache throbbing in my temples as I shoved three mini peanut butter cups into my mouth at once as I hid in the storage closet.
The storage closet was a secret refuge of mine since I first started working at the hotel when Daphne was a baby.
Back then, I’d taken to the storage room to sob over my sleeplessness, stress, and guilt at being away from my baby.
The longer I worked there, the more it became my place to decompress or shove the snacks into my mouth that I had hidden in a bucket on the top shelf until I felt ready to face people again.
It wasn’t until I got back to the front desk that I opened the drawer to check my phone. We weren’t even supposed to have them at all while at work, but almost all of us—especially those of us with kids—kept them nearby, just with all the sounds off.
I saw the missed call, and felt my stomach twist at the message.
I thought Daphne had understood that it was incredibly inappropriate of her to try to flirt with a man Callow’s age.
And I wasn’t even focusing on the fact that she should have been in school at this time of day.
But the seriousness in Callow’s tone when I called him back from the bathroom had my blood running cold.
Something happened.
Something not great.
I mean, he did try to tell me she was okay. But I didn’t exactly put my faith to rest in that as I pulled at my uniform, mussed my hair, wet my face carefully like I’d been sweating as I was sick, then made loud, painful retching sounds before making my way out of the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” Maria, one of the maids, asked as she spotted me.
“Don’t get too close,” I said, holding a hand up. “I think I got a stomach bug.”
“What is all this standing around?” Abby, our boss, asked from behind me.
“Careful, she’s contagious,” Maria said, reaching for a washcloth off of the cleaning cart and pressing it to her face.
“With what?” Abby asked, moving away as I turned.
Abby, amongst being an impossible to please boss, was also a bit of a germaphobe. Which worked in my favor.
“Stomach bug,” I said, pretending to gag a bit.
“You need to leave,” she said, tone brusque. “Right now.”
“If you’re…” I started, gagging again, “sure,” I finished.
When she confirmed that she wanted me to leave, I all but ran out of there. They probably thought I was in a rush to get to my bathroom. Which was fine. I just hoped no one noticed that I turned the wrong way out of the lot, heading toward the Henchmen clubhouse instead of home.
My mind raced with possibilities as I made my way onto the street the clubhouse was located.
But something about how the lot was completely full of bikes and cars all parked haphazardly made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
When I climbed out of the car and saw red drops on the ground near an SUV, though, my stomach dropped to my feet.
Then I was running toward the door. When I got to it, someone opened it for me. Another man pointed toward the kitchen.
It was a relatively small space with a round table only big enough to seat three.
Sitting at it, though, was my kid.
She had swollen eyelids and tear-streaked cheeks.
“Daph,” I said, rushing toward her, dropping down onto my knees and looking her all over.
“I’m okay,” Daphne said, but her eyes were looking watery again.
“You don’t look okay,” I said, reaching up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear.
“I’m not hurt,” she clarified.
“Okay. Alright. That’s good. What happened?” I asked.
It was then I heard a throat clearing, making me get to my feet and whip around.
There was Callow.
I swear he looked even more handsome than before.
Until, of course, my gaze panned down to see blood dripping down his arm into what was a small puddle on the floor.