Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
I reach for the lever on the passenger seat and ease it back, just enough that it doesn’t crush our belongings in the backseat. Daddy covers me with a blanket that smells stinky, humming a song under his breath.
“Will we go back home soon?” I ask, my little mind still puzzling over the fact that we left. Daddy said we were going car camping, but it’s been a lot of days and we don’t have beds anymore.
“Soon,” he says, and his eyes get that sad look in them. They’ve had that sad look since mommy went to heaven. I think that’s why we had to go car camping. “You have to tell me something, Cadence.”
He sounds serious so I pop open an eyeball to look at him. I hope he doesn’t make me say I like math. Numbers are boring and hard. “OK.”
“Sometimes, life is scary and sad,” he says. “But everything can change in a minute, and I need you to tell me you won’t ever, ever give up. Promise me.”
This sounds like a serious promise, so I hold out my pinky finger, just like I do with my friends at recess. “Promise.”
He wraps his big work-roughened finger around mine and gives me a soft smile. “That’s my girl.”
Dad’s voice brings me back to the present as he instructs, “You eat all the sushi you want. You charge it to my account.”
He’s a millionaire now. Well, he was. His assets have all been seized but he doesn’t know that either. It’s another thing I’ve kept from him. After years of growing up so poor, he loves the chance to spoil me. I can’t bear to tell him that his money has dried up and his staff is gone other than a few loyal people left. We’re running on fumes and unless this merger goes through, there won’t even be anything for him to come back to.
He already lost everything once before. Back when my mom died, and our home went into foreclosure. He rebuilt from the ground up. Like most that go through poverty and homelessness, the recovery process took well over a decade. But he did it. He was finally starting to see the reward for his years of hard work and sacrifice.
Until the Abernathy family got greedy.
My hand tightens around the phone as a familiar surge of anger fills me. I’d love to lash out at them. But I’d be nothing more than a dog nipping at their heels. No, I have to be patient and bide my time. That means going through with this sham of a marriage, no matter how repulsive I find my groom.
“I have to go now, Dad,” I tell him, my throat tight. Is he ever going to forgive me? What if he gets out of jail and realizes what’s happened?
No, I won’t let that happen. By the time my father is released, and the charges are dropped, everything will be back to normal. Except that his company will be gone. At least, his ideas will be.
But it doesn’t matter. We can rebuild again, and I can get even with the Abernathy family. I can destroy them from the inside out.
After we say our goodbyes, I take a deep breath and survey my appearance one last time. I’ve been waxed, tweezed, and plucked in every conceivable place on my body. I’ve been lotioned and perfumed, had my hair and makeup done. Finally, I’ve been squeezed into a dress that’s a white monstrosity.
Now there’s only one thing left to do before the ceremony. It’s time for the first look. Some magical event where the bride and groom see each other for the first time. The thought sends a wave of bile up my throat, but I choke it back. I will not give Andrew the satisfaction of knowing he disgusts me. He’s a sexist jerk who eyes me with open hostility. Our marriage will be anything but a happy union.
I should probably call one of the annoying bridesmaids that my new mother-in-law hired but I can’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I gather the skirt of this hideous dress and walk the ten steps across the hall from the bridal suite to the large room where the first look is supposed to take place.
To my relief, I find the space empty. It gives me a few moments alone to gather my messy emotions. I remind myself that even though this isn’t my dream wedding, it doesn’t matter.
Eventually, my dad will be out of jail, and I’ll divorce Andrew. I’ll find a man that really loves me. One who will celebrate my curves and love my big body. He’ll laugh at my jokes and listen to me talk about what’s happening in the latest alien smut books I’m reading.
He’ll find my yoga pants sexy and spin me around when Sinatra comes on the oldies station. But most of all, he’ll love me, and we’ll have a magical marriage, just like my parents did.