Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“No, not today.”
“You want me to fix you a sandwich that you can eat while you’re working?” he asks.
“Not hungry.”
“Okay. Is it okay if I take my normal one-thirty lunch?”
“Absolutely. Enjoy yourself.”
Maya and Luke only take half-hour lunches, although I give them an hour. They usually make themselves a sandwich and eat in the back.
“Take your whole hour today,” I say. “I’ll be here.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Luke smiles. “But I will take my lunch. A corned beef sandwich is calling my name. Don’t think I’m strange or anything, but I think I’m going to try it on that cranberry walnut bread you make.”
“Should be delicious,” I say.
Cranberry walnut is one of my favorite holiday breads, but it doesn’t sound good to me today.
I haven’t eaten anything since half the sandwich Brendan brought me last night. My stomach is again a void, and I know I need to fill it. But it’s so difficult when my throat feels like nothing will go down.
I’ve been sipping water all day, which is keeping me going, but eventually I’m going to require sustenance.
I hope Brendan will be able to come by at six. I need him so much, but I can’t expect him to drop everything and come to me.
This relationship is a two-way street, and we both have businesses that we love. Unfortunately, the hours of said businesses conflict big time.
So I work.
Until I hear the ding of my text.
Good news. I can come by at six for an hour. I got my dad to fill in.
Thank God.
I text Brendan back quickly.
Thank you so much. I know this is difficult for you, and I appreciate you making time for me.
I’ll always make time for you, baby.
My heart warms, and then I go back to work.
At six o’clock, when the bakery closes, I leave Maya and Luke on cleanup duty and head straight out to the alley. Brendan is arriving. I grab him, pull him to me, and kiss him deeply.
His tongue meets mine, and the kiss turns me into jelly all the way to my toes.
But I can’t be jelly. Not right now.
So I break the kiss. “Thanks for coming. Let’s go to my place.”
“Whatever you need, baby.”
I throw my dirty apron in the hamper and then lead Brendan up to my apartment. I wash my hands quickly in the sink, and then I take Brendan into my living area and sit on the couch, beckoning him to take the spot next to me.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Do you need anything to drink?”
“I’m fine. I’m more concerned about what you need right now, Ava.”
He’s such a strong, sweet, loving man. And he’s totally focused on me.
“I promise you, Brendan, when all of this shit with my family blows over”—if it ever blows over, I add to myself—“I’m going to focus on you like you’ve never been focused on before.”
“You do a fine job of focusing on me, Ava.” He grabs my hand. “You’re all I want. All I need.”
“But I’m going to show you that I’m not just a bunch of Steel problems wrapped up in a pink-haired woman. I’m actually pretty good at relationships. Or at least I think I could be. I haven’t really had one.”
He smiles. “I know you’re going to be great at this. It’s okay that we need to focus on you right now. Perhaps one day you’ll need to focus on me. And when that day comes, I know you will.”
I can’t help but smile, despite the fact that I’ve felt perpetually sick since my father laid our twisted family history on me—with the exception of making love with Brendan.
“I’m not sure I’m ready to tell you what my father told me. Are you okay with that?”
He takes my hand. “I won’t deny that I’m curious, but Ava, this isn’t about me. This is about you and what you need. If you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s okay.”
“The thing is… I want to talk about it. I want to get it off my chest. But I’m just…” I sigh. “I think I want to draw a card.”
“You want me to get your deck for you?”
I rise. “I’ll get it.” I grab the scarf-covered tarot deck out of the mahogany box and bring it back to the couch. “I normally read at the table, but the coffee table will do for now.”
I unwrap the deck, shuffle it three times, and hold it to my heart.
I don’t think in words, simply infuse the deck with love and energy. Then I cut the deck, draw a card, and place it faceup on top of the old steamer trunk I use as a coffee table.
And I can’t help myself. I burst into laughter.
Brendan lifts his eyebrows at me. “Ava?”
The card on the table is the five of cups. A lonely figure in a black cape stands, saddened by the five cups on the ground. Every time I’ve drawn this card, the first feeling that comes to mind is negativity.