Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Instead, I nod to them both. “Ladies.” And I leave before Jamila can lay into me again.
But that negotiation, that near-kiss, it told me everything I needed to know.
Keely will be mine. All she needs is the right nudge.
Chapter 11
Keely
I almost kissed him.
It was stupid, like shoving my face up against a pissed-off viper and thinking it’ll be fine. Getting anywhere near that guy is suicide.
I nearly did it anyway.
It’s like when he’s around, my brain goes haywire.
I know he’s bad for me. Nolan’s a Crowley, which means Nolan’s a gangster. I don’t want anything to do with that life. Ash deals with it, but I can tell her husband’s profession stresses her out. That’s not what I want.
But I also remember what being with him was like. That night was magic—he’s right, even though I hate to admit it. What we had was transcendent, special, the sort of connection and spice that only happens once in a lifetime.
When he offers it to me again, I’m tempted.
I’m also tempted for somewhat less selfish reasons.
Like the baby growing inside of me.
That’s going to be a problem, which is a total understatement. I haven’t really thought about how I’m going to afford to raise a child, much less how I’ll have the time to deal with a baby while also running a new business. The whole idea seems absurd, and the longer I put off figuring out what I’m going to do, the harder it’ll be.
Mostly because I know it’s not possible, and I want to avoid making that decision.
Nolan’s offer would solve my dilemma. He’d help take care of the baby, hire a squadron of nannies, babysitters, whatever.
But that’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.
Putting myself in his debt.
Worse than that, forcing my child to grow up with a gangster father that might end up gunned down in the street at any moment.
I sit in the corner seat at Smoke’s bar, sipping another seltzer, feeling terrible. Jamila’s back home getting some well-deserved rest. We spent all day working on the shop though we both know it’s useless. I could tell she was dying to bring Nolan up, but she was kind enough to give me a break.
At least Smoke isn’t busy. I can scroll on my phone, sip my drink, and decompress a little with some French fries courtesy of Fulco. I chat idly with Bernie, at least until Ash plops down in the chair next to me with a deep sigh.
“Waitressing is hard,” she complains, rubbing her back. “I didn’t realize it took real physical stamina. Seriously, my feet hurt, and I’ve done this before!”
“Tips are nice though.”
“Seriously, Keels, how did you come in here every night and manage to get these cheapskate assholes to give you extra money? It doesn’t matter how good my service is, they leave like a ten-percent tip, if I’m lucky.”
“You’re the boss’s wife,” I say, grinning at her. “They all know you’re loaded already. Why give a rich lady more money?”
She groans, putting her face in her hands. “The curse of being wealthy.”
“Cheer up,” I say lightly. “At least you don’t have to show your tits and flirt to make ends meet.”
She glances at me. “Is that what you did?”
“Sometimes,” I admit. “If the guys were cute. Mostly I gave people attitude, made them laugh, you know, played up my winning personality.”
“Everyone loves banter,” Ash agrees.
“You could always command the guys to leave better tips.”
“I’m tempted, but no, you’re right. I don’t need the money, it’s just nice when I get it. As like a proof that I’m doing a good job.”
“You are doing a good job,” I say softly, rubbing her back. “Seriously, Ash, I’ve always wondered how you do it. Jams and I are already struggling and we haven’t even opened our doors yet.”
Ash sits up straight, considering me. “Jams came to me earlier.” She looks a little uncomfortable, like she wants to have an awkward conversation, and my stomach twists.
I drop my hand from her back, going very still. “Did she?” I ask, trying to sound casual, but feeling the furthest thing from it. “What did she say?”
“I know you’re having problems.” Ash clears her throat. I can’t believe this is happening. I’m caught between being embarrassed and enraged. “Running a business is hard work. Starting one from scratch is ten times worse. I had a head start since my grandfather got this place up and running before I was even born and left it to me when he passed. Meanwhile, you’re trying to create something from nothing. It’s admirable, it really is.”
I shrug slightly but hearing her say that means the world. “It’s just a silly dream. Donuts and whatever.”
“It’s more than that. I know it is.” She waves off Bernie when she comes to ask if Ash needs a drink. “I can help, you know. If you want, I can—”