Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I hesitantly lift my glass and tap it to hers. “And love? You don’t need a grand proposal? A long engagement? The fairy tale?”
Jolene sips her wine and nearly chokes on it with a laugh. “Fairy tale? No. Those don’t exist. I don’t need a knight—a Prince Charming. Love is overrated. I’d rather marry a man I respect and who respects me. Love is foolish, and it’s most certainly blind, but not in an endearing way. My parents weren’t head-over-heels in love, but they had mutual respect. And over time, I think that grew into love. A good love. A smart love.”
Taking a sip of the bitter wine, I let her words sink in. I was hoping she’d be on the fence. I don’t have a choice in this arrangement, but I think Jolene does. If she decides this isn’t the life she wants, Fletcher and Pauline will be disappointed, but I don’t think they’ll disown her. Unfortunately, I don’t see her budging. She’s all in.
“What about you? How do you feel about what we’re doing?”
I feel like I’ve chosen the prison that doesn’t involve an actual cell and orange jumpsuit.
I loosen my tie. It suddenly feels like a noose, tightening an inch at a time. “I feel indebted to your uncle. I like my job. I like the people working with me. The ranch. Indiana. I can’t imagine not having that life.”
Pausing her next sip, Jolene cants her head. “Indie? Huh.” She sets her glass on the table next to the flickering candle. “I guess you did take care of her a lot after Ruthie died. The sister you never had?”
My days of using Indie’s name and sister in the same breath are over. I shrug. “She’s a … friend—all grown up. I do feel close to her. I think Fletcher let her fall between the cracks after Ruthie died.”
“She’s seventeen.” Jolene’s gaze cuts to the couple who ordered the flaming dessert. He gets down on one knee. Great timing.
I shake my head. “She had a birthday.”
Jolene snorts, bringing her attention back to me. The proposal does nothing for her. Figures. “Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Barely eighteen. And Fletcher took her out of poverty and probably an abusive home. Who knows? Her mom happily traded her for a million dollars. Ruthie coddled Indie. She thought she was a miracle instead of a business transaction. Indie’s had a charmed life. But she’s graduating in the spring and needs to figure out her place in this world. She’s not a real Ellington.”
“Neither am I.”
Jolene nudges my leg with hers. “Not yet.” She flicks her wrist. “I don’t want to talk about Indie. Let’s talk about the wedding. And where we’re going to live. Fletcher has offered to move out of the main house, but I’d like to build something new on one of the other properties. Something closer to Dallas. And when Fletcher and Mama pass, we can decide where we want to live to run things efficiently.”
She talks about them dying like it’s all part of the plan. They could both live for another thirty-plus years.
“I’m not planning on carrying babies, so we’ll need to discuss finding a surrogate.”
Fuck my life …
“You have fertility issues?” I ask.
“Pfft … no. I’m not taking time off from work to be pregnant and dealing with all the physical limitations I’ll have for nine months … not to mention what pregnancy does to a woman’s body. I have a friend who used a surrogate. I’m going to check with her. Nanny. Private schools. Our kids will have the best life.” Jolene’s enthusiasm settles into a sad smile. “A much better life than you had.”
I’m curious what she knows about my life. What did Fletcher tell her? Or what did he tell Pauline? I’m at a disadvantage right now.
“Doesn’t take much to have a better life than I had.” I shrug.
“I’ll let you plan the honeymoon.” She’s clearly done talking about my life. I’m sure it’s a nuisance.
“But I’m fair skinned,” she continues. “So don’t assume I want to spend a week on a yacht. Be a little more creative than that.”
“If you’re not accustomed to being disappointed, then I suggest you plan the honeymoon.”
She laughs like I’m joking. “You’re adorable.”
I signal to the waiter so we can order and get out of here. It’s hard to breathe with Jolene demanding so much oxygen. Entitlement is suffocating. I’m going to die a miserable man. Maybe prison would be better.
The town car drops us off at the main house where Jolene and Pauline are staying through Thanksgiving break. I hold open the door until she steps onto the cobblestones and adjusts her dress.
“Dinner was lovely. Thank you, Milo.” She touches her fingertips to her lips for a second. “Is Milo short for something?”
I loosen my tie even more before it strangles me. “No. Just Milo.”