Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
If I was in trouble before, it had nothing on now. In the past three or four days, I’d started listening to archived episodes of his radio show by the pool and before bed. He was such a passionate historian, and he was funny too. Engaging. Animated. His storytelling had me hooked.
He liked working for me; he’d enjoyed his job at Hilton, too, but I couldn’t see his future as easily as I did when I listened to his show. I could picture him in a classroom full of high school students with perfect clarity, however. He’d thrive there one day, when he was ready.
In the meantime, I supposed all I could do was hope for the best while I fell recklessly in love with my assistant.
I didn’t have any work commitments the first day in Nassau, so I suggested we all have dinner together in the restaurant by the biggest pool. We’d been spoiled by fantastic seafood all month, but this resort actually had a great pizza-and-burger place to cater to the many families that stayed here. It was, in general, a more family-friendly paradise. Several pool areas, activity clubs for children as well as teenagers, and free transfer into town that was fifteen minutes away.
Julia jumped from lap to lap throughout the evening. Right now, she was helping Peyton finish his pepperoni pizza and interviewing him about his beer and why there were water droplets on the outside of the glass.
Cathryn swayed lightly to the music playing and watched the couples on the dance floor with a soft smile.
I made a mental note to dance with her later. She’d married the love of her life, but he happened to hate dancing.
“Damn,” Mathis said, reading something on his phone. He grimaced. “You’re gonna like this, boss. My youngest nephew’s decided he’s gonna start playing football this fall.”
I grinned and tossed a crust onto my plate. “He’ll be a Patriot in no time, then. Good.”
“Gross,” Peyton muttered with a wince.
I shot him a look while Mathis laughed.
“Don’t tell me you’re a Seahawks fan,” I told the punk.
Peyton raised his brows. “What else would I be? Of course I am.”
Mathis tipped his beer as a silent hear-hear. He was one of those “Anyone but the Patriots” guys. Originally from Philly, he grew up hating Boston teams. Then his brother moved to Boston when he got married, and since their parents weren’t around any longer, Mathis had joined them once he left the Army. He claimed it’d been a full-time job to make sure his two older nephews didn’t get sucked in by the Boston spirit, and he’d succeeded quite well. But the youngest already liked the Red Sox.
“Do you guys hang out outside of work?” Peyton asked us curiously.
Cathryn snorted. “Edward doesn’t have a social life.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” I argued. Julia slid off Peyton’s lap and climbed up on mine instead. “I meet up with you for happy hour sometimes.” And she and Tom dragged me over for barbecues in the summer. That was something.
“I’m not sure twice a year qualifies as sometimes,” Cathryn drawled.
Of course it did. “I’m not leaving this one with my parents, that’s for sure.” I smoothed back Julia’s messy waves and kissed her forehead. She was getting tired. “She’d come home popping Xanax and drinking martinis.”
It was my mother’s favorite hobby. I loved her, and my father, but they were the very epitome of the country club people I tried to avoid. If my mother had a martini in one hand and Julia was running toward her, Mother’s free hand was used to point at the maid.
Not that Julia would run toward her.
“You could invite Mags to town more often,” Cathryn pointed out gently. “Like I said, her watching Julia twice a year is hardly sometimes.”
I suppressed my flinch and took a swig of my beer instead. We were getting too personal. “She sees her for Easter too,” I muttered.
Peyton looked understandably confused, and Cathryn was seemingly in a sharing mood.
“She’s Sandra’s mother,” she explained, which didn’t help Peyton at all. So, Cathryn sent me a perplexed look before turning to Peyton again. “Sandra was the little one’s mom.”
“Oh.” Peyton furrowed his brow.
I sighed and glanced over my shoulder toward the bar. We needed new drinks over here.
“So, anyway.” Mathis was going to change the topic and ease the tension the only way he could. Bull-in-a-china-shop style. “The boss and I have a standing tradition. We get together at his place for the Super Bowl, the Stanley Cup final, and the World Series.”
No one responded to that.
Julia was falling asleep on my chest, so I couldn’t count on her for a distraction or diversion.
I was contemplating waking her up to ask if she wanted that ice cream, but then a server arrived, and there was a collective rush of relief from all of us. Except Peyton. Something had soured his mood.