Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
I furrow my brow. “Why would I avoid you?”
She sets the phone down so that I’m looking straight up at her ceiling fan, listening to the rustle of her clothing as she gets dressed.
“I don’t know,” she says, off camera. “I guess I’m just worried or whatever. Boys can be like that, you know? I’ve seen it happen to friends. You give them a taste and they lose interest.”
“Maybe. But I’m not a boy, I’m a man, and I think you’re the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever known.”
She picks up the phone, cheeks glowing beneath the compliment. “You do?”
“I really do.”
She smiles, and it lights up the world. I’m fucking falling for this girl. No, that’s not true. I started falling a long time ago.
“Okay,” she says, satisfied. “I have to go now, for real.”
“Can I take you out?” I ask quickly. “On a proper date?”
“Sure, I’d like that.”
I keep the phone in my hand long after she’s already left for work, like I’m holding onto a piece of her, something to tide me over ‘til I can hold her in my arms—for real.
I choose an upscale Italian restaurant that requires a blazer for our date. I feel like a giddy-ass teenager making the laughably short trek from my front steps to her doorway.
Tatum opens the door before I can even raise my hand to knock, dressed in a yellow sundress with black polka dots beneath a black cropped sweater, chunky black heels with white socks. She’s pin-up model gorgeous.
“Are those for me?” she asks, eyes wide as she takes in the bouquet of long-stemmed roses I’m holding.
“Of course.” I hand them over, and she buries her face among the soft petals, inhaling their fragrance.
“Thank you so much,” she says. “They’re lovely.”
“So are you.”
“Is that Lucas?” Nina calls from inside.
Tatum rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Yes, Nina.”
“Well, have him come on in and say hello!”
Tatum steps back with a sigh, and throws the door open wide. I step inside, raking my fingers through my hair before moving more deeply into the apartment. Nina appears from the kitchen, red kimono flowing, and Marcellus cupped gently in one hand.
“Well, hello there, mister,” she says. I meet her halfway as she leans in to air kiss my cheeks.
“Nice to see you again,” I say to Nina before addressing the gecko. “And you, too, bud.”
“Marcellus is struggling with a shed,” Tatum explains as she goes about putting the roses into a vase of water. “Nina’s helping him get the rest of his skin off.”
“And he gets a little treat for being such a good boy,” Nina says fondly to the lizard before heading back into the kitchen. I follow them, watching Nina open a jar of baby food—pureed pear. She dips a Q-tip into the mush and holds it out for Marcellus, whose long tongue immediately darts out to lap it up. It’s so absurd I can’t help but chuckle.
“Roses,” Nina says, with an approving nod. “Nice touch.”
“Lucas is very nice.” Tatum sets the filled vase on the kitchen table.
“Now that Marcellus has had his dinner,” Nina says, turning to me, “where are you two off to?”
“Regina Cucina,” I say. “We have a seven o’clock reservation.”
“And here I am, jabbering away.” Nina waves her hands, shooing us from the apartment. “Go, go, enjoy, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That doesn’t leave much off the menu.” Tatum smacks a kiss to Nina’s cheek before I catch them giving each other a conspiratorial smile, and then we’re out the door.
I take her hand as we head for my truck. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she says. “So do you—er, handsome, I mean.”
I chuckle, pausing when she goes near the mailbox.
“Hang on one sec.” She rifles through her handbag. My blood runs cold when I see her pull a letter out of her bag, addressed to her father at the penitentiary.
The one who won’t respond.
I want to stop her, but I can’t think of a good enough reason that wouldn’t sound suspicious. She drops the letter into the mailbox, and my mouth goes dry.
“Ok,” she says, “we can go now. I just wanted to get that letter out to my dad.” I nod because I don’t know what to say. “It’s weird. He hasn’t written back in a while.”
I swallow past the tightness in my throat.
“Mail delivery can be kind of erratic on the inside.” The half-lie feels like a rock in the pit of my stomach.
“Right,” she says. “That makes sense. The state of the American prison system is abysmal, so I’m sure something as simple as mail delivery is pretty easily disrupted.”
Again, I just nod, because I know that the first rule of lying is to stay as close to the truth as you can. I feel like an asshole. But I push the feeling aside, for Tatum’s benefit, or so I tell myself. I want this night to be perfect for her. I want it to be an evening she’ll look back on with fondness and pleasure, because it’s no less than what she deserves.