Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“I remember. He’s also in his thirties and a man who’s been on his own for a really long time.” I’m not an idiot. There was a reason Nix chose to stay single all these years, never bringing anyone around the girls whom he may have dated. At first, I thought it was what he preferred. The small tidbits of information he’s let on told me otherwise.
“Fine, fine. Want another glass of wine?” she asks, changing the subject, which is good because I’m ready to turn the focus back to her. Ophelia with the honey brown hair, same blue eyes as her brother; it’s the dark circles under those eyes that I’m having a hard time ignoring. Not only that, she’s skinnier than the last time I saw her.
“Sure.” The money I saved up for the attorney was more than enough by half, two grand out the door when it’s all said and done. With David being missing in action, he said it’s a cut-and-dry case, what with the warrants out for his arrest. The likelihood for him coming around is slim to none. If he were incarcerated, it’d still be the same way. I took the other three thousand and paid off my Tahoe. No more five-hundred-dollar-a-month car payment meant that I could splurge on my birthday dinner.
“So, you know one of the things Nix and I talked about was what we’d do to either of our houses once he moved in or vice versa. That means one of them will be empty,” I lead in, trying to talk it up. Ophelia made a mistake a lot of young people make, going to a college for a degree because you thought that was what you were supposed to do. I mean, she did stay in town at the local college, so her debt was minimal, but when she realized fashion design school was calling Fif’s name, that meant moving from our small town across country, racking up a pile of student debt, and staying in California for an eternity, unless she’s at a different location for a movie or television show. “If you want first dibs before we decide if we’ll rent or sell, it’s yours.” I did not clear this with the man I love, already knowing he’d be happy to have his younger sister back home.
“Is this going to be soon, like in the next few months, or longer down the road?” At least this time, she’s not shooting me down right away like the last time.
“We’ll make it work for however long you need. If that means a short-term rental until you’re ready to come back home, that’s what we’ll do, okay?” I want my best friend home. Sure, there are some selfish reasons involved, but for the most part, it’s the way Ophelia currently looks like a shell of herself. I can relate. It wasn’t long ago that I was her, when I looked in the mirror and saw my hair thinning from stress, my body skinnier than ever from not eating a balanced diet, living off caffeine in the form of coffee and Diet Coke. Except, instead of dark circles like Ophelia is sporting, I had bags under my eyes so big they could pack a suitcase.
“I’m going to take that into consideration. I have an exit plan, you know?” I nod, wanting her to keep going as the waiter delivers our food and pours another glass of wine for each of us. I ordered the spicy shrimp tacos with a side of fries. Ophelia got her usual chicken tenders and French fries. It doesn’t matter where we go, this is what she orders if her mom or Nix isn’t cooking. “One more year. It was two years, but no way can I hold on that long. People think New York doesn’t sleep, but California is ten times worse when it comes to celebrities and their executives. Anyways, by that time, I’ll be completely debt free, and if I make the move too soon, I’ll lose the clientele I’ve been slowly working for on the side. It’s a double-edged sword, one that I’m having a hard time separating. God, coming home sounds amazing. I’ll have to travel, which is still one of my favorite things to do, but it’ll be once a month versus every other day.” She takes a break from talking, going after a chicken tender. I do the same, except I’m devouring my tacos. The spice is on point and burning my mouth in the most decadent way. I grab my glass of wine, knowing a third will be in my near future, and then I’ll really be tipsy.
“Oh God, these are the best,” I tell her after I chew my food. “Then it’s settled. You’ll have a place to land when you’re ready. Now, are you coming back to the house with me, or do you have other plans?” I don’t ask for any other details about her work life, wanting her to truly be on vacation while she’s home. Plus, Fif is the person who if you pry too much too soon, she’ll close up like a clam.