Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I rub my arms against the chill. Gage doesn’t say anything, but he fiddles with the controls on his dashboard, and suddenly a soft plume of warmth hits my feet. A moment later, my upper body feels it too.
“Thank you,” I say, touched by his thoughtfulness, and then take a steadying breath. “Gage …”
“I know you slept with Kai.” His voice is even, matter-of-fact. “It doesn’t change how I feel.”
I blink, several times. “It doesn’t?”
“No.”
There are so many things I could say to that, chief among them And how exactly do you feel? The question is right there, but I refuse to voice it. It’s unworthy of me, of us.
I don’t know what else to say, though, and I don’t want to let the silence turn awkward. After casting around for something suitable to say for a few moments, I settle on, “Do Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez still live in the same house?”
“They do. Kai and Thorn offered to buy them a new one, but they’re happy where they are.”
“And your family?”
We didn’t spend as much time at Gage’s house growing up, primarily because he has a large extended family, and we had more room and privacy playing outside, or hanging at the Sanchez residence. But I remember the Leotas being a warm and happy clan.
“They all moved to California,” he says. “But I visit them as often as I can.”
Outside my window, the flashy lights of Sin City beg for attention, but my focus is fully inside the car, as the questions in my head compete for priority. “What does Thorn do at the resort?” I ask. “And what about you and Kai? You seemed to think I should know.”
He glances at me. “I’m guessing you don’t spend a lot of time on social media.”
“I do, as much as most people, I think, but I mostly follow other wedding planners, organizational gurus, some health and beauty people, stuff like that. I haven’t seen anything about you guys.”
“Well, to take your questions in order, Thorn is the head chef at the resort.”
“Oh! He was always cooking for us. That’s so exciting.” I’m practically bouncing in my seat. “He’s young, to be head chef.”
“He started his own channel several years ago, posting photos and videos of dishes he’d created. He’s got a lot of followers. People go to the resort just to eat his food.”
“Ahh, I see.” Clare is a very canny businesswoman; I approve. I wonder if she has any ideas about how I can best promote the resort in my soon-to-be position.
Gage clears his throat. “And Kai and I have our own tattoo shop.”
LEXY
My brain screeches to a halt. “You’re tattoo artists?” That explains some things. “No wonder you’re both inked. Beautiful work, by the way.”
Gage grins. “Thanks. We design our own, but generally I ink his, and he does mine.”
“That’s awesome. The two of you used to write all those comic books together; I kind of thought you’d end up doing something artistic.”
He nods. “We like being our own bosses, and we like the human element. Having our art out in the world, on all those different bodies, and being able to give people something that’s personal to them—that’s very satisfying.”
“That makes sense. But why did you think I would know?”
He glances at me again as he takes a corner, heading for our old neighborhood. “We did a couple of seasons on a reality tv show. It was enough of a hit that we were able to open a bigger shop and hire some more people.”
This day has brought enough surprises for a lifetime. “You and Kai are reality tv stars? And Thorn’s a social media star. You guys are all celebrities.”
I’m happy for them, and so proud, but part of me is uneasy, too. I’m a nobody. Sure, I had a good reputation in my little corner of the world, but not beyond it.
I always counted on doing a good job, and the word of mouth that comes from that, to build my clientele. I’ve never aspired to be a world-famous event planner, but I suddenly feel inadequate.
Still, I try to ignore the little voice in my head that says I don’t belong in my old friends’ world. I just found them again; I’m not giving them up that easily.
The late-afternoon sun casts a soft glow as Gage cruises slowly down our old street, and a mixture of emotions swirls inside me as I prepare to see the house where I grew up.
We slow to a near stop as we inch by the house, which looks much smaller than it seems in my memories. There are two cars out front, and a toddler's plastic slide in the side yard that's new. I hope the family that lives there now is much happier than mine was.
Next, I’m looking for the vacant lot, choked with weeds, where we all used to play. Instead, there’s a beautiful park that features a children’s playground.