Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“I don’t already know. I…I did look you up when I found out your grandma had bought us out, but I didn’t do any psychotic research or anything. Just some regular research. I just wanted to know what was going to happen to our company. That was it.”
“And since then, you haven’t looked into me in more detail?”
“No.” She pulls away, nervous now. She gnaws on her bottom lip, then sucks it into her mouth to ease the sting. Looking at it, I’d like to run my tongue there and find out all over again how sweet she tastes. The urge is stronger than I’d like to admit, so I move away an extra couple of inches to give us some space. We start walking again, at a snail’s pace. “I know what your net worth is, where you were living before, and um…unfortunately, I know a bit about your dating history because that’s easier to find than anything else, but that’s it. I’ve been too busy lately trying to explain to the people closest to me what the heck I’m doing to actually do any creepy style research. So, why don’t you go first? Tell me about what it was like growing up rich and famous and all. I really can’t imagine. Even if I knew the details, reading about someone isn’t everything. And I’m sure you had the most interesting life.”
“You can say that.” My tone is as strangled as I feel.
We start walking at a snail pace on the walking path, side by side. My hand is only inches from Emily’s, and my fingers physically ache to reach out and close that gap, to wrap themselves around hers and hold them securely and protectively. It’s a big deal to me because I can’t remember the last time I even thought about hand-holding as exciting. Probably when I was thirteen.
“Oh. One of those. I see,” Emily says, her voice thick with compassion. “I guess everyone wants to be rich, but no one ever thinks about how people who are born into it probably just want to be treated normally.”
“I’m sure some of them like being rich and don’t want to be treated normally at all. They like the perks. Honestly, I liked a lot of my childhood. My teenage years too. I got to go places all over the world, and I saw things that most people would give anything to experience. I liked having a famous granny, but there was a downside to it too. I’ve always grown up with the publicity, or whatever you want to call it—living a public life. It’s hard to try and figure out what privacy means when I got so used to never having it. My mom…well, I don’t even know where to start. I love her, but she was wild. My granny has this saying about us putting her in an early grave. She’s always lectured both of us with it, but maybe we both deserve it. My mom would be one of those people who likes all the money and fame, even if she didn’t earn it. She was always raised with it too. I actually…I don’t know who my father is, and she doesn’t know either. That kind of wild.”
Emily stops abruptly.
Yeah, I kind of just dropped that in the middle of nowhere. I haven’t told anyone that before, and now it just came rolling out, as natural as can be.
“Jesus.” I rake my hand through my hair and give her a sheepish grin. “Sorry. That was a little too weighty for a nice walk in the park.”
“No. No, it’s fine. I can’t imagine growing up like that. I was raised too normally. Average middle class. That was our family. My brothers are both older, and they gave me hell. It was more than just the farting as they liked to be obnoxiously protective. I never even had a kiss until I was eighteen, at which time, they’d both gone off to college and weren’t around to scare away potential boyfriends. Not that there were many lining up at the door.”
“I can’t believe that’s true.”
“It was.”
“Because they didn’t know how to ask. Beautiful women are always hard to talk to.”
Emily snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. Anyway, we did the normal family stuff—camping in the summer, skiing in the winter, that kind of thing. We’re very boring. And we all went to college.”
“You love classic literature.”
“Yes.” She laughs nervously, and I curse myself for reminding her that I basically creeped her out hard with the background check. Because I have the power to do it. She finishes gently, though, without getting annoyed about my prying. “Yes, I do.”
“I actually read a lot. You wouldn’t think so because that kind of thing never makes magazine headlines. I’ve also been to lots of plays, shows, and musicals. All of that.”