Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
“Maybe we can make something for everyone that I know. And for your mom and dad too. And your friends. Do you have friends?”
“I do. Do you have kids you like to hang out with?”
“Sometimes. I don’t really know that many because I’ve always had a nanny, and I’ve never gone to school or daycare like other kids. I have aunts and uncles, and I like my cousins, but I don’t see them that often.”
“We’ll make something for them.” Shade has a really good grasp of how the family unit works. I’ve literally met seven or eight-year-old kids who still didn’t know what a cousin or aunt or uncle was.
“Can we go now?”
I finish the rest of my pancake even though I’m not hungry because I don’t want to teach Shade that it’s okay to waste. I don’t think it matters how much money a person has; there is always someone out there who doesn’t have any and would give anything for what you have, so wasting anything really isn’t okay with me. My parents taught me that from a young age, and at boarding school, we weren’t allowed to waste either. Not that they force-fed us. If we honestly didn’t like something, we were expected to speak up, although it didn’t always work. I was also forced to eat vegetables when I wasn’t at home, and now I love them. But when I was younger, not so much.
Shade goes running off while I clean the table and rinse the dishes before putting it in the dishwasher. When he gets back, he presents the car keys to me with a huge grin on his face.
Grocery shopping was a bit of a nightmare because the Christmas rush was already on. I can’t imagine the craft stores or anywhere else will be much better, but we’re doing it.
Shade’s more excited than I’ve ever seen him, and I wouldn’t disappoint him for anything, even if it means battling heavy traffic, packed aisles, and long lines.
CHAPTER 9
Luke
God, I needed a good game after today. Work was shit—just more pressure about the merger that may or may not happen. Everything is hinging on me, and I’m sick of it. I hate that my decisions affect so many people. I used to love that—that I was succeeding. But now? Now it’s not very fun. I was looking forward to coming home, but as soon as I walked in the door, I was bombarded by Shade. He was so excited to show me all the things he’d made—Christmas stuff—all of it. Then he asked me about a tree.
I took him out for dinner because Feeney hadn’t made anything edible (she burned something unidentifiable again) and also because I needed to get out of the house. I knew she had put Shade up to it. Freaking Christmas. We don’t do Christmas in the house, and it’s not because I can’t bear to think about it. I’m not that much of a pussy, even though it does still sting. Mostly, I just hate it. I hate having to pay token visits to the people I don’t want to see. I hate having to fake it, buy gifts, the crowds, and the disruption in the workplace and the rest of the world.
I’m not surprised to see Feeney sneaking around the corner of the living room. I have my headset on, and I’m immersed in a game. The second I spot her, I get killed. It’s game over for me about five seconds after I started.
I rip off the headset because she’s standing off to the side with innocent surprise all over her face, her eyes all big, watery, and doe-like.
“Sorry.” She points to the TV. “Did I make you die?” She’s clearly not sorry. By the look on her face, it’s clear she thinks all video games are a waste of time.
It’s pretty much the classic look for someone who never played them. She probably had fancy riding lessons and freaking gymnastics or ballet to keep her busy as a kid. What do rich kids do? Shop? Take part in pageants? If I even know. I wasn’t raised rich, and I didn’t make money until much later in life.
“Do you need something?” I don’t purr the question. It comes out as a raspy, chainsaw rumble.
Feeney can’t just let it slide. “Rough day at the office? You sound like a grumpy bear who just sat down on the business end of a sharp branch while he was trying to scratch his ass.”
“What would you know about bears? This is Florida.” I don’t think Little Miss Priss has ever even gone camping before.
“There’s this amazing invention called the TV. And books. Opens up a whole different world, even if you live in Florida.” She closes her eyes like she’s fighting herself. She doesn’t look annoyed. Rather, she’s more focused.