Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Nora put her chopsticks on her plate and sat back, snapping, “Stop it, Jamie. It didn’t happen that way.”
“I’m aware of that, Nora, but that doesn’t stop those thoughts from coming.”
“And girls need their fathers, make no mistake. I know, mine is gone. And I’ve met the one who donated his seed to make yours, and trust me, she needs you, Jamie. Don’t ever doubt it.”
“I’m sorry you lost your dad,” he murmured. “And Eleanor. Your mother was a remarkable woman.”
“I’m sorry you think you should have taken Rosalind’s place. I mean, dear Lord, I didn’t know her very well, but I knew her enough to know, if she was sitting here, listening to this, she’d be shockingly angry with you.”
“And I know that as well, that still doesn’t stop the thoughts from coming,” he retorted.
She picked up her chopsticks and stabbed at a dumpling, grousing, “What I wouldn’t give for a magic wand. You can’t change the fates, but I could maybe do something about this alarming train of thought you have happening.” She shoved the entire dumpling in her mouth, chewed angrily, then, still with food in her mouth, an indication of how angry she was, because Jamie reckoned, she never spoke with food in her mouth, she turned to him and said, “I have no idea if what happens is meant to be and it’s simply our lot to deal with it. All I know is, the world would be a poorer place without you in it.”
She swallowed, and it looked so rough, it hurt Jamie’s throat.
But she kept talking.
“I mean, can you imagine if Rosalind hadn’t met you, and she was still destined to leave this Earth the way she did, and Dru was stuck with that man?” She shivered dramatically.
It was cute.
But Jamie couldn’t concentrate on that, considering he was reacting to her words, his chest swelling to the point it felt like it would burst, and his heart started beating faster.
Nora continued speaking, “Or having no one at all. That would be a tragedy.” She shook her head and snatched up another prawn. “I have children, and so do you, so you know this as well. The last thing Rosalind wanted to do was to leave either of you, but I know for certain she felt content, even blessed, that she was leaving her daughter with you.” She stabbed the air in his direction with the prawn caught between her chopsticks. “And you can take that to the bank, Jameson Oakley.”
With that, she angrily bit down on her prawn, and still angrily, chewed it.
“Fuck, I’m so glad you showed tonight,” he said.
She blinked rapidly several times. “What? Why? So I could rant at you?”
“Somebody needed to, so I’d get my head out of my ass.”
For a moment, she seemed stunned, then she seemed pleased, after that, she looked so content, if she purred like a kitten, he wouldn’t have been surprised. “Happy to be of service.”
He chuckled.
It was rusty too, but it was authentic.
“Tell me about Dru, and your son,” she demanded.
Jamie happily obliged.
And they decimated the Mr. Chow’s, the bottle of wine, as well as the financiers, and several macarons besides, before he guided her back to the front door and down to her waiting car and driver.
Before helping her into the back seat, Jamie kissed her cheek, coming to the realization made even more poignant that night that they could never be.
And that had been so he could have Rosalind, and in the end, he could have Dru.
Jamie was both perfectly content with that, at the same time it chafed. Horrendously.
In the intervening time since their dinner together in his kitchen—this would be the time between Rosalind dying and Belinda eventually (or perhaps the more fitting word was “inevitably”) overdosing, which brought Judge fully back into his life, they would meet for lunch a couple of times, and a few times more, they’d chat animatedly at events they both attended.
It wouldn’t be until he realized he was unwittingly using Dru as his buffer to the world, and Dru was doing the same, and he had to let his daughter live her life, that Nora would come in and save the day yet again, becoming his plus one, with that growing to her becoming his near-constant companion.
She had her own apartment, and he had his brownstone. They both slept alone.
But they saw each other practically every evening and spent most weekends together as well.
He thought he had a handle on it. His affection for her. His feelings for her.
His growing yearning for her.
Then she’d worn those damnably sexy, red, high-heeled, fuck-me sandals.
And he’d been unable to control his rampant—and becoming with each second he spent with her more overpowering—urge to kiss her (not to mention, do other things to her).
He’d succumbed to that moment of weakness.