Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“What?” he asked me with a crooked grin on his face. “Not a good look for me?”
I managed to stifle my giggle and shook my head. “No. I think it works on you.”
He smirked then. “Of course it does.”
I studied him a minute, then looked at the roses. “How did you know about her love for pink roses?” I asked him.
“I asked her.”
I swung my gaze back to his. “You asked her?” I repeated, letting that sink in.
I had this image of Dean Finlay in my head. One I’d had for a very long time. When Dean did things like this, it made it more difficult for me to hold on to that image.
“Of course I did. She mentioned how happy she was to be moved in before her birthday and that you always made her a cake and threw her a party. She invited me to the party, and I said I’d come only if she told me her favorite flower.”
Mrs. Jo had known he was coming. That sneak hadn’t said a word.
“They’re stunning roses. I’ve never seen any that shade of pink before,” I told him.
He shrugged. “Being me has its advantages.”
I was sure it had all the advantages.
“There you are,” Clara said brightly as she brushed by Dean and entered the kitchen.
She was beaming her gorgeous pearly-white smile, and I wasn’t sure if it was me she was talking to or Dean. My guess was Dean, but she had wanted it to seem as if she had been looking to find me.
The doorbell rang, and I had my excuse to get away from Clara’s next flirtation with Dean.
“That is probably the Thai food,” I said and stepped around Dean to head to the door.
Damar and Jim always paid for the Thai food, and I made the cake every year. However, I wanted to get out of the kitchen, and this was my chance.
Damar was already at the door, paying the delivery boy for the food, while Jim headed toward me with the bags.
Great, we’re going back to the kitchen now. I just got away from those two.
“God, I love the way this smells. Damar never wants to order Thai. This is the one time of year I get to have pad Thai, and I relish every moment,” Jim said.
I forced a smile and waited until he was past me, almost to the kitchen, before turning back around to go help set up the table. When I entered the room, Clara was all but pressed up against Dean, leaning into him and batting her long lashes up at him as he spoke.
Yeah, tonight was going to be a blast.
nine
dean
They were a family. It was clear by the way they spoke to each other, in their smiles, the sound of their laughter, and how they truly cared about each other’s lives. In the center of this family was their core—Brielle. She had been the one to set up the food, get everyone’s drinks, cut the cake, and serve them all.
I was fucking fascinated with her. Every move she made. Nothing about her was like other young women I had dated. Clara was the kind of female I was done with and no longer had any desire to waste my time on. Brielle should be too. She wasn’t twenty-five. She was twenty-eight. Her birthday was in November, and Damar was already planning her party, which he and Jim were going to throw at their apartment.
Otherwise, there was little talk about Brielle’s life. Damar spoke about the internet dating app they had invented. Clara talked about the concerts she’d been to, mentioning Slacker Demon more than once. Mrs. Jo talked about Andrew and his newest boyfriend. Everyone seemed relieved that Andrew had broken up with his last boyfriend, agreeing he’d been controlling.
I listened, waiting to hear more about Brielle. When she finally stood up and began cleaning the table, I waited to see who would help her. Clara moved her chair closer to mine and asked me what I was doing tonight. Not once did she glance in Brielle’s way to see if she needed help. Mrs. Jo and Damar were in deep conversation about the yoga class that was now being held in the park at sunrise. Jim had stepped out of the room to take a phone call.
I moved my chair back and stood up. I didn’t respond to Clara’s question, but I took my plate and the other empty items on the table, then walked over to the sink, where Brielle stood, filling the left side of the sink with soapy water.
“You wash; I’ll rinse and dry,” I told her.
Her eyes snapped up to meet mine, and I saw a touch of surprise there. Then, she narrowed them slightly. “You know how to do that?” she asked.
I shrugged and played along. “I’m sure if I get confused, you could help me.”