Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
"When was the fire?"
"Yesterday," he answers.
"Seems convenient," I mutter.
"Exactly, but the fact that there might be a mole in one of the departments who knew we were looking into that crew is a different ball of wax."
"How can Cerberus do any good when there are bad guys disguised as good guys?"
"It's definitely a hindrance," he says, running both hands over the top of his head in frustration. "I can't guarantee that things are safe for you now, but Dima is going to be quite busy trying to get himself out of trouble with the EPA. I doubt he'll have time to worry about an American citizen who he already made his money off of."
"What are you saying?"
His eyes look sad when they reach mine, but it's also very possible that I'm trying to read much more into his mood than is actually there. I don't exactly have the best track record for reading men's true emotions. Had I been capable of that, I might've never had to leave Texas in the first place.
"It's your choice whether you want to stay or go."
My choice.
Seems easy enough. I should be jumping for joy.
If he thinks it's safe enough to go back to my regular life, then I should take that at face value and rush out of the door, right?
"How safe is it?" I ask, a larger part of me wishing he'd just ask me to stay. But I know this departure from my regular life won't last forever, and the longer I stay in this world, the harder it's going to be to return to my own.
"Safer than it was yesterday," he says as he stands. "I'll give you time to think about it. I have to debrief with my team."
"How long do I have to decide?"
"Take as long as you need," he says, before stepping in close and pressing his lips to my forehead.
He's out the door in the next breath, and I fight the urge to chase him down the stairs and beg him to keep me.
Pride and my heartbreaking history keep me rooted in place, wondering exactly what the right choice is and knowing when I finally make that decision, I have to do the complete opposite, because I always make the wrong choice.
Instead of sitting and stewing in my choices, I grab my phone and call Morgan. She doesn't answer, but no sooner do I put my phone back down does it start ringing, her smiling face looking up at me from the bedside table.
The bravery I felt when I called her a second ago has already faded, but I know it would be weird to call her and then not answer when she calls right back, so I connect the call and place the phone to my ear.
"If you're calling to cancel your attendance at my party, you better think again," she says before I can even say hello.
I want to argue that there are many more important things going on in people's lives than a Halloween party, but I know it would only be a waste of breath. She has a one-track mind, and this party has been at the forefront of hers for the last several months.
"I'm not canceling," I assure her because, honestly, if I wasn't planning on attending, I'd just not go and then lie about something coming up.
Not that I'd hurt her feelings like that.
The difference between Morgan and me is that she has a ton of friends whereas she's my only one.
"Good," she says. "How's married life treating you?"
"Ugh," I groan, pressing my fingertips into the space between my eyebrows.
"Honeymoon over already?"
"What honeymoon?" I mutter.
"That's not a good sign," she says. "What's going on?"
"I'd rather not talk about it," I say rather than explaining the entire situation and asking for help.
I know what my friend would say. She'd urge me to see where it goes, to be open and honest, and tell Ellis exactly how I feel.
The difference is that Morgan is the heartbreaker rather than the one getting her heart broken. When I told her about Troy and what he did, she couldn't fathom not being able to see through his bullshit. It's one of the things that makes me mad at her sometimes. She doesn't really form connections with the men in her life. It's as if they're all playthings and she can discard them without repercussion extremely easily.
"Tell me your plans for the party," I say, hoping it's enough to distract her from what's going on in my life.
"As you know, Hensley, Inc. backed out last week."
"You did not tell me that," I mutter.
Hensley, Inc. was the party-planning company she hired last year after things went a little sideways when she planned this same party herself. She put on too many hats and had too many balls in the air. The party got very close to not happening at all because she struggled to handle it all herself.