Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Certain not all his anger resides around my review of his performance tonight, I ask, “Stripping or us, Caleb? Because you’ve been giving mixed signals all night.”
He freezes for five seconds before stabbing a stake into my heart with one measly word. “Both.”
When he races for the exit, I chase him down. I should be too shocked to move, but anger has a way of making the impossible possible. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re acting like a fucking lunatic.” I grab his arm just before he breaks onto the sidewalk, halting his angry strides. “Talk to me. I can’t help you remove your head out of your ass if I have no clue why it’s up there.”
I went with humor in the hope of defusing the tension, but it seems to have made it worse.
“You should have told me,” he yells, stunning a couple walking by so much they scurry to the other side of the street. “You should have fucking told me.”
As my wide eyes bounce between him, I ask, “Told you what?”
I take a step back at the anger projected in his words when he shouts, “That your dad is a fucking priest. You should have told me.”
After breathing out my confusion, I ask, “What does it matter what he does for a living? You’re not fooling around with him. We’re the only ones fucking.”
My reply seems to anger him more. After flaring his nostrils, he grits his teeth together, shrugs out of my hold, then continues down the street, leaving me utterly lost on what the hell just happened.
CHAPTER 24
JESS
THREE MONTHS LATER… NEW YEAR’S EVE
If I thought Caleb’s evasive skills were impressive the week after my father collected me for my monthly penance, I had no idea. I’ve hardly seen him for the past three months, and my social calendar has been packed with events thanks to Octavia’s wish to experience more of what life has to offer.
A good that comes from being raised in a strict Christian environment is that the focus of major holidays in December is extremely family-orientated, meaning I didn’t hurt Octavia’s feelings when I rejected her invitation to Christmas dinner.
My excuse was legitimate, so she’s clueless to the relief it offered me knowing her celebrations wouldn’t be ruined by a confrontation between Caleb and me.
With my internship finally turning into a permanent position and my weekends spent trawling boutiques for the perfect bridesmaid dresses for Rylee’s upcoming nuptials, mimicking Caleb’s elusive maneuvers have been relatively easy.
Although I will admit I am more angry now than confused.
I thought once he calmed down, he’d realize he was overacting to my so-called ‘preacher’s daughter traits,’ but that didn’t happen. He wasn’t deceitful when he said he didn’t want to strip anymore. He failed to return for his second gig Friday night, but his head was screwed on enough to call Maui to advise him he’d need a replacement ‘entertainer’ for all future bookings.
His manager wasn’t given the same courtesy.
He completely bounced on his obligations, and it made me wonder if I knew him at all. He’s acting like a spoiled brat, and that bratty routine continues when he enters his apartment with so much arrogance, the handful of work colleagues and prospective ‘friends’ Octavia invited to a low-key New Year’s Eve party part like the Red Sea when they spot his grouchy approach.
My stomach gurgles down the drain along with the party’s atmosphere when I realize Caleb isn’t alone. He’s tugging a blonde behind him, her face while drinking in the setting as disdained as Octavia’s voice when she mutters, “Ugh… I was hoping he’d leave her at home.”
I stray my eyes away from Caleb, who only just locked his with mine, before asking, “Who is she?”
The painful claw of my heart slackens when Octavia shrugs. “I don’t know. Someone he met last month. She is obnoxious and snooty. Not at all Caleb’s type.”
She freezes filling a bowl with crisps when I mutter under my breath, “From what I’ve witnessed the past three months, that sounds like Caleb’s favorable traits.”
“True,” she eventually agrees. “Which is disappointing. He seemed to come good a couple of months ago, then all of a sudden, bam, he’s back to his old ways.” As quickly as disappointment took hold of her features, hope replaces it. “But lucky you don’t need to worry about that with all the fine gentlemen we invited this evening.”
I feel ill while roaming my eyes over Octavia’s notion of a ‘gentleman.’ They’re handsome, but even the most attractive men look like they have a monkey’s butt for a face when their egos get too large to fit in a room.
And no one proves that better than Caleb when he returns to the kitchen after a brief intermission in the bathroom. He shoots daggers at the intern from accounting who sat next to me over thirty minutes ago but hasn’t spoken a word. I think he’s nervous, and if the smell that fluffs up from him every couple of minutes is any sign, I also believe he is a nervous farter.