Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Peaches, I’ve gotta go.” I ran my hands through my hair, unable to look her straight in the eyes.
“I’d love to go home with you and Netflix.” She covered her mouth and laughed. “Without the chill part, unless you want to. Gawd, I’m making this worse, aren’t I?”
Just like I’d feared. Maybe she was a damsel looking for her white knight after all. She was holding her heart out to me, an unworthy bastard.
“I…we aren’t…” I stammered. I couldn’t say I wasn’t worthy of her, because I didn’t want it to be true.
“I get it.”
I looked at her again to gauge her true feelings. Did they match her words? Her face was downcast. I’d crushed her hope. It hurt like hell, but it was better this way.
“Really, I do.” She was convincing herself now. “I need to get back to Wilson’s. He’s…I mean, they’re going to wonder what happened to me.”
“Goodbye, Peaches.” I wanted to kiss the soft blush on her cheeks. Have the memory of touching her skin. But I’d crave another taste. The tender spot behind her ear. The soft skin of her neck.
“Oh, please don’t say goodbye.” Her shoulders drooped as her smile disappeared. “It’s one of my least favorite words. Let’s replace it with another one.”
The wheels in her head spun as she thought of a word to swap it with. Perhaps bonsoir, since she seemed to love French.
“I’ve got it. Serendipity.”
“Huh?” Her mind was a dangerous place. I couldn’t keep up.
“It’s a movie. Kate Beckinsale and John Cusack are in it. She wrote her phone number in a book, then sold it to a used bookstore the next day. He tried to find the book and her the rest of the movie.”
“Let me guess, he got the girl in the end.”
“It wasn’t that simple. They were reconnected at the last second before he married another woman. Serendipity put them back together. Who knows, maybe we’ll meet again. I’d like that.”
I would too, but I’d fail her, crush her spirit.
“Skeptical, aren’t you?” she said. I scoffed and shook my head. No one would ever call me a dreamer. “Don’t worry, Herb. I’ll believe for both of us.
She moved closer to me, and I tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t belittle her fantasy. But we were never going to happen. She was better off if goodbye meant just that.
“Come here.” She curled a finger at me, red lips forming in a devilish grin.
When I didn’t move at lightning speed, she grasped my tie and brought us nose to nose. Aggressive little thing when she knew what she wanted. She leaned in closer. I felt her hot breath against my skin, then she brushed her lips against my ear, and whispered, “Serendipity, sweet Herb.”
Her lips blazed a short trail on my cheek where she planted a chaste kiss. After she pulled away and let go of my tie, my skin tingled. I felt fifteen again. The kiss was pure and tender—just like her.
I watched her walk away toward her subway stop until she disappeared like a mist into a crowd of people. I considered running to find her, but the truth of who I was and the life I’d chosen kept my feet from moving. She would have to remain the beautiful nymph I met on a Wednesday morning.
An unfamiliar ache formed in my chest, making it difficult to catch my breath. I welcomed the raw pain, not how much it hurt. For the first time in years, I had true feelings for a woman beyond just the bedroom and my own base needs.
Did I want more for my life? Maybe what my best friend, Barclay, had with his new girlfriend? So bad, the want for it made the aching worse, but my cards couldn’t be reshuffled. I was dealt the hand and had no one to blame but myself.
8
Lucas
My assistant, Jared, packed up his briefcase, ready to leave for the day. We worked until noon from my home office on Saturdays. I couldn’t survive six days in a row at IG without losing my mind.
I peered out my window towering over the ground below. Gone were the cold granite and concrete buildings of Wall Street. Today, my view was nothing but clear blue skies. I exhaled a deep breath.
Rising from my chair, I cracked open the terrace door, letting a cool breeze circle the room. Fall wasn’t far away, which also meant the Hamptonites would be filling up the streets again.
“Sir, I think everything’s in order for your meetings on Monday.” I turned to Jared, who was standing by the door. “I’ll be in Philly tomorrow, but you can reach me by phone.”
“I won’t need anything. All I have is the benefit tonight.”
I was receiving recognition for donating a million dollars to fund brain injury research at New York’s Cognitive Study labs. The group had no idea I gave the money in hopes of helping my mother and relieving my guilt.