Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“It’s good to see you, Pamela.” There’s a beat of silence before he adds, “I didn’t realize you were in town.”
She beams as her gaze slices to Crawford. The intimate look they share has my belly erupting with fresh nerves.
“We were going to make an announcement over dessert, but why wait?” he says, voice brimming with excitement. He cuts across the thick wool rug to where Mom stands before slipping his arm around her waist and dropping a light kiss against the crown of her head. “Pamela and I have been seeing each other for about a month now and we’ve decided to give our relationship another shot.”
My wide eyes dart to Mom in shock. The calculating gleam that fills hers never wavers.
When I remain silent, my brain cartwheeling, she asks, “Aren’t you happy for us, Carina?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ford
My fingers clench the leather steering wheel as we speed back to campus.
After Dad dropped his bomb, dinner turned out to be an awkward affair.
Throughout the hour-long production, I watched Carina withdraw into herself, toying with her food and barely contributing to the conversation. Immediately afterward, she shoved away from the table, saying that she needed to practice her solo for the showcase.
When Dad asked if she wanted dessert—tiramisu, her favorite—she shook her head and fled from the room as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels.
The fact that she wouldn’t even glance in my direction only heightened my concern.
After demolishing the coffee-flavored sweet, I told them that I needed to use the john and never returned.
Not that they’d notice.
Or care.
Or maybe it would be accurate to say that Dad wouldn’t notice. Throughout dinner, he barely glanced away from his ex-wife. It’s as if she’s the sun he revolves around.
It’s been like that since day one.
Pamela, on the other hand, is more difficult to read. She doesn’t wear her emotions on her sleeve the way my father does. Not even where her daughter is concerned, which is a damn shame. If there’s one person who deserves both her time and attention, it’s Carina. As far as I can tell, Pamela is more interested in herself than anyone else.
Instead of hitting the bathroom, I headed straight down to the studio, only to find the door locked.
Can you believe that?
Not in all these years has Carina locked me out.
I didn’t even know the damn thing had one.
How’s that for a kick in the balls?
So, I did the only thing I could and sank to the floor outside the room, giving her the space she craved. I slid a piece of paper under the door, letting her know I was there if she wanted to talk. An hour later, we walked upstairs together, and I told the parentals we needed to head out.
Carina shot me a grateful look.
Since she hasn’t said a single word, I blurt, “I take it their relationship is a surprise?”
“Yeah.” Her voice is flat. Monotone. “For you as well?”
“I knew they’d grabbed lunch together a couple of weeks ago, but nothing more than that.” The last thing I want is for her to think I’ve been keeping secrets. The next question flies out of my mouth before I can stop it. “You really don’t want them together?”
For some unknown reason, hurt pricks me. Which is stupid, I know. It would be far easier for us if our parents weren’t together. As soon as that thought pops into my head, I realize it’s exactly what I want.
To be with Carina.
Even though we’ve been pretending this was casual, it was never a friends-with-benefits situation.
Or, as she likes to say, a frenemies-with-benefits situation.
At least, it wasn’t for me.
“No.”
Only wanting to lighten the mood, I say with a snort, “You should really stop mincing words and just tell me how you feel.”
She sucks in a lungful of air before slowly releasing it back into the vehicle. “I don’t want Pamela and Crawford together. Ever. End of story.”
Damn.
I flex my fingers, attempting to loosen the death grip I have on the leather steering wheel. “Why? What does it even matter anymore?”
She hunches her shoulders and swivels away, making it impossible to get a read on her expression. “I just don’t.”
I kick an idea around before it tumbles off the tip of my tongue. “Do you think Pamela’s too good for my dad or something?” What else could it be? Why is she so adamant about them not being together?
“Are you serious?” She whips around and stares at me with wide eyes. “Of course not! It anything, Crawford is way too good for almost any woman.”
Ahhh. Now we’re finally getting somewhere.
“So…you think he’s too good for your mother?”
She slumps on the leather and turns her head away again. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I’m really tired. I just want to go home.”
A frustrated burst of air escapes from me. I’m unsure how to get Carina to open up and tell me what’s really going on inside her head.