Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“How’d you get here?” he asked.
I raised a brow at him.
“I rode with someone,” I lied.
I rode on the bus.
But he didn’t need to know that.
Luckily, I’d been able to get a hold of Shiloh before I’d left, knowing that she would be getting here later in the day with James once he got off shift.
She’d taken the rifle for me so I didn’t have to do some clever explaining to the bus driver.
“You rode the bus,” he challenged.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“If you already knew,” I wondered, “then why’d you ask?”
“Because I wanted to know why the hell a woman would take a bus all the way here if she had a car,” he growled by way of explanation.
I sighed and rubbed my eyes with my hands.
I didn’t really want to get into that right then.
In fact, I just wanted to go home.
“Speaking of buses,” I said, picking up my purse, “I have to go take a few pictures, and my bus leaves within an hour.”
I tried to skirt around Ridley, but he grabbed me by the shoulders before I could even get a step past him.
“Why are you running?” he asked.
Because I made a fool of myself, I thought.
What I said, however, wasn’t anywhere close to the truth.
“I’ve got to go home and work,” I told him.
And in truth, I did.
I’d called in sick today, citing a headache.
I hadn’t really thought it all the way through at the time, otherwise I would’ve realized that calling in sick then going to a nationally publicized competition that was the biggest in the state wasn’t the smartest thing to do.
But whatever, that was neither here nor there.
I had a lot bigger fish to fry at this moment in time, than my boss.
“You don’t work until tomorrow,” he said. “You called in sick, remember?”
I ground my teeth together.
“Is there anything else you would like to answer for me?” I asked him. “How about what color my underwear is? Or whether or not I’m hungry?”
Ridley narrowed his eyes.
“Check the attitude,” he said. “You scared me.”
“Why?” I asked.
He pulled me forward until my body was almost pressed up against his.
Our mouths were less than six inches apart, and if either one of us put forth the least bit of effort, our mouths would be touching.
“Because your house was a freakin’ mess. You threw a wall-eyed fit to see me yesterday. I tell you to go home and wait for me, and when I get there you’re gone. Your house has been tossed. Your gun safe was emptied. What else was I supposed to think?” he growled.
I absentmindedly started stroking my hand up and down his bicep, staring at him apologetically.
“My house was tossed by me,” I said. “I was looking for a check that I’d meant to deposit last week, and couldn’t find it.”
Not completely true, but close.
I’d actually been looking for the flyer about the competition.
The invitation that was extended to my brother.
This event was one of the elite. Only the best of the best came, and I was still on cloud nine that they even allowed me to enter.
Whatever the reason, I was grateful.
With the check that I’d be getting in less than ten minutes, it’d be enough to pay off my mortgage and Corey’s mortgage with ease.
Except my hopes were dashed moments later when that huge fake—the real one to be coming in the mail in a few short weeks according to the officials—check, the size of a small house, was presented to me, and pictures started to flash in front of my face.
“Well congratulations, Colette Capone,” the host of the event, Mark Suchha, said with enthusiasm. “This is the first for us to have a female winner, and I can’t say that I’ve ever been more pleased.”
I tried not to grimace at the use of my name.
I hated it.
I hated even more that my father had given me that name because he was so saddened by life’s outcome.
The coordinator gave me the huge check as we all posed for pictures.
My eyes darted to the side where Ridley was staring at me from behind the photographer.
His eyes were blank as they studied the commotion.
My gaze snapped back to the coordinator as he started talking about my brother, and how he’d won the competition last year.
That was when I realized I was on TV.
Fucking wonderful.
“Was that why you decided to come to this event, Ms. Capone?” the reporter asked.
She had really big hair, almost as if she were stuck in the 80’s.
“Yes,” I lied. “That’s exactly why I came. In my brother’s memory.”
In all actuality, I came because Craddock had somehow slipped his dirty fingers into my pies, trying to ruin everything that I held dear.
And I would do anything to make it so that would never happen.
Craddock could kiss my ass.