Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Ryan glanced over at me before pulling out onto the road. “I go to sleep after midnight and wake up at six. I try to set a sleep schedule but the next thing I know it’s almost one in the morning. I focus on work too much,” he admitted.
“What do you do?”
I didn’t have to be a genius to know he made good money at whatever it was. The suit pants and the dress shirt he’d been wearing the night before had a high-end look and his Mercedes was top of the line, the leather almost as soft as a baby’s bottom.
“I own a digital gaming company,” he answered.
“What kind of gaming?”
“I was always interested in video games, so in college I took a bunch of development classes. It became a passion, and with the trajectory for technology being as good as it is, I knew the earning potential was limitless. When I graduated I worked at a Microsoft company creating games. I was happy enough there, but I needed more. I took out a small business loan and started my own thing. We hit the big time three years ago with Ancient Air Ops.”
I wasn’t what you would call super tech savvy, but I knew the world of Ancient Air Ops. I’d have to have lived in a cave not to.
“I’ve made dozens and dozens of cakes with that theme,” I laughed.
He glanced over and smiled. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. People are obsessed. The intricate detail work on the soldier uniforms has taken up hours and hours of my life,” I teased. “Those suckers are no joke to make in fondant.”
Ryan threw his head back and barked out a laugh. “I never thought about how difficult something like that would be, but having seen your robot work, I can tell that you’re a perfectionist.”
“Guilty as charged,” I admitted.
“How’d you get into baking?” he asked.
“My dad’s mom, my nana, owned a bakery in the city when I was a little girl. My dad was the bookkeeper for the store, and that’s how he met my mom. She ran the front of the store. I spent so many hours in the kitchen with my nana perfecting the ultimate buttercream and learning how to make my own molds. My mom split when I was twelve, shortly after Nana died. Dad sold the business and set money aside for me to go to baking school.”
Ryan’s brows pinched together as he darted a glance at me. “What do you mean your mom split?”
The weird thing is that I never talked about my mom with anyone unless I absolutely had to, but with Ryan, I didn’t want to hold any of myself back.
“Mom is… an odd bird,” I said. “She was never like the other mothers. She wasn’t warm and fuzzy and we never spent a lot of time together. I think she stayed because she loved Nana so much, so once she died, there was nothing holding her back. She got married again about a month after the divorce was final. Since then, she’s gotten married four more times.”
“Hmph.”
“My sentiments exactly,” I agreed.
“How often do you talk to her?”
“She normally calls on my birthday.”
“Jesus,” he growled. “What a bitch.”
I shrugged. “It’s all I know. My dad is tops, though. I figure I got one really great parent, and that’s blessing enough.”
“You’re tight with him?”
I nodded. “I am. He moved to Orlando with his girlfriend Carla about two years ago, but I talk to him at least once or twice a week.”
“But you haven’t visited,” he said.
I looked over in surprise. “What makes you think that?”
“You said you haven’t taken a vacation in four years.”
“Oh! Right. Well, I haven’t taken a vacation, but I went to Florida for three days at Thanksgiving and four days at Christmas when the shop was closed. I’ve gone for the weekend three or four times, too.”
“So you do know how to relax,” he teased.
I laughed. “I do. It’s difficult because I have no one to go on vacation with. Gina is my best friend and unless it’s closed, we can’t both be out of the shop at the same time. First the rest of my friends were still away at college, now most of them are married, either with children or with them on the way. I’d feel silly on a beach somewhere by myself.”
“I’m not one to talk,” Ryan admitted. “I haven’t taken a vacation since ever. Growing up, my parents worked hard to provide, but there wasn’t anything left over for extras. Once I got to college the career ball started rolling and I felt I needed to follow it. Taking time off was never a priority. Until now.”
“What’s happening now?” I asked as he steered into a parking spot in front of the Chinese restaurant.
After putting the car in park and turning the engine off, he unbuckled and then turned and faced me.