Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“I didn’t pay close enough attention when Clay was talking about this guy. We’re gonna go do some research because the next motherfucker that step outta line with you gon end up on Uncle Dave’s pig farm. Just saying.”
Sheila was busy telling Jonathan not to come and I was trying to figure out how to get out of here without being seen by him. Everything about me was a mess. My mind was racing, my heart was pounding, and all I kept wondering was, is this what a rebound feels like?
I don’t remember falling in love feeling like this, so it must be something else. I didn’t have any of these wild feelings with Kevin. Ah, how could I forget? Perimenopause could be playing a part in my haywire emotions.
Thankfully, he wasn’t the one driving us home; thank heaven, it was his driver. That seems so odd, a cop with a driver, but whatever, I had my own problems, so I was in no shape to dwell on his.
The gentleman was personable, and the car, not sure what it was, was nice; I remember cream leather, bottles of water, and other crap back there, but for the life of me, I couldn’t tell you what streets we drove or anything else that happened.
The Bobsie twins knew enough not to discuss you know who while his driver was in attendance, so I was left with my own thoughts, which were all going around in circles. I’ve found more and more lately that the older I get, the more I wish someone would tell me what the hell I’m supposed to do in any given situation.
When I was young, I couldn’t wait to get away from adult supervision and authority. But since I reached about thirty-five or so, when life was really kicking my ass with kids and just everyday shit, I wished like hell someone would take over so I could sleep.
We thanked the gentleman and tried to tip him, which he politely refused, so I guess Damon pays him well. The plan had always been for the girls to spend the night, so after we called Jonathan to let him know that we had indeed made it home in one piece and he and Sheila had their annoying lovey-dovey talk that made her giggle like a teenager, we got down to business.
Maeve grabbed her laptop from her overnight bag while Sheila and I took mine and climbed into bed together, sitting side by side on the king-sized bed in the master bedroom that I’d moved back in.
None of us spoke for the first few minutes after putting his name in Google. I got hung up on one thing. “He’s younger than me.”
“So?”
“You think he knows?” Look, it’s one thing to look younger than your age, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are indeed that age, and with that age comes certain things like hot flashes and mood swings that may or may not land your ass in jail.
“He’s a cop who liked you at first sight, he knows, trust me.” Maeve is probably just saying that because she thinks getting laid is the answer to everything.
We went back to reading about his life or what was known of it because there didn’t seem to be much more than his football stats, the fact that he left at the top of his game and was now a cop. There were no red flags, even though some of the articles went back to his high school days.
He was never arrested, never married, though he’d been engaged once almost ten years ago. There was no mention of why they broke up or who called it off and nothing much about her. The pictures they did have of the two of them together did give me acid reflux.
“She’s gorgeous.”
“That just means he has a type.” You see, that’s why Sheila is my sister-friend. Only she could say something like that with no inflection whatsoever and make it have so much meaning.
We spent the next hour or so trying to find as much information, and for the first time I realized just how invasive Google is. By the end of that hour, we knew his net worth, his date of birth, and all past addresses; it was uncanny.
The three of us were no match for the crash and burn that comes after a day like we’d had, but the last thought I had before falling asleep wedged between my two best friends was that I hadn’t given my ex one thought throughout this whole day.
They both woke up before me, not sure why and were already busy in my kitchen. I crawled out of bed, ignored my bedhead, brushed my teeth, and then headed down for my caffeine fuel. I hit the fridge first and was bent over grabbing a bottle of water when the door opened behind me.