Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
“Does anyone else live here?” I ask. The place is massive for only one person.
“Mrs. Putnam lives on the property but not in the main house. I don’t care for guests. I value my privacy.”
“This place is so big.” Why have this giant house if you’re not going to do anything with it? That makes no sense to me.
“I got it for a good deal. When I go to sell it one day, I’ll make a killing.”
“Then what?” I take a bite of the mac and cheese. My stomach is starting to feel full, but I don’t want to stop yet.
I’m curious about Griff, and I have a lot of unanswered questions. I also know if we’re done eating then I’ll have to go back to my room. I spent so many years in boarding school being alone.
Now that I have Griff’s full attention, I want to hang on to it while it lasts. I’m sure he’ll slip back to his office soon enough. Right now, though, it actually feels as if someone gives a crap about something I’m saying. When Griff is in the same room as me, he seems to pay attention to everything I do.
“I’d find something else.” He puts his fork down, not interested in eating. He barely touched his plate. I think I ate more off of it than he did.
“You wouldn’t miss it? The memories?”
“No.”
Right. Griff isn’t that type of man. He’s the same as my parents, only younger and even more driven. I need to remember that. I push my food around my plate. If I take another bite, I might be sick. As much as I don’t want to go back to my room, Griff doesn’t make it easier to talk to him. “Are you done eating?”
“I suppose.” I put my fork down. He pushes back from his chair.
“Let me.” He takes my plate, leaving me sitting there alone. A weird ball of emotion starts to rise up in my throat. I stand, fleeing the dining room. I race up the stairs, almost running into one of the men in all black that are always lingering around.
I don’t want to cry in front of anyone. Honestly, I’m not sure why I’m going to cry at all. I go straight for my bathroom, pulling off the stupid black pants and shirt I’d put on to make Griff happy. I change back into my other clothes before I grab the blanket and a pillow from the bed. I pull it over to the gated off area where the kittens are and set up a makeshift bed on the floor next to them before I let my tears escape.
“At least I have you guys now.” I pet mama, who purrs loudly, loving my attention. At least someone does.
9
GRIFFIN
When I get back to the dining room, she’s gone.
“You already ran her off?” Mrs. Putnam walks in and grabs the serving dishes from the table. “Can’t say I’m surprised given the way you stared at her and barely ate.”
“I didn’t stare.”
She gives me an irritated glance. “You stared. You’re going to scare her off, and then you’ll regret it. Loosen up, Griff. She’s a keeper.”
“I’m her guardian,” I remind her. Or am I reminding myself? Because when Vivian let me feed her, when she moaned, hell when she just fucking existed in the same space as me–I couldn’t look away. I can’t seem to think straight when she’s near.
My phone buzzes. I pull it out and scroll through several emails concerning one of the big deals I’m working on. Nothing pressing. Not yet, anyway. The landscape has changed now that David and Laverne are gone. It’s going to be tricky to reassure certain partners that their business is safe in my hands.
I switch my phone to silent and pocket it.
Mrs. Putnam notices, but she doesn’t say anything. I can already hear her thinking He never turns his ringer off. Ever.
“I’m just going to go–”
“Go upstairs and apologize for being a stuffy weirdo.” She disappears into the kitchen.
“I wasn’t being a stuffy weirdo,” I grumble as I climb the stairs. But it’s not like I’m taking advice from Mrs. Putnam. I was going to follow Vivian anyway. I can’t seem to help myself. Wherever she is, I suddenly want to be. I’m not a stuffy weirdo, I’m an obsessed stalker.
I pause in front of her door and lift my hand to knock, but then I hear a sniffle inside. Is she … crying? Not on my goddamn watch! I open the door and find her in the kitten enclosure.
“Griff?” She sits up, and that’s when I see the tears running down her cheeks. I’ve always hated when people try to shorten my name to Griff. With her, I enjoy it.
“No.” I go to her and lift her from the pen, then put her on my lap as I sit on her bed.