Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
West Harlem. Washington Heights. Those would be a fucking awful commute.
By the time Fee returns, I’ve moved the newspaper back, and I’m almost finished with my drink.
“I can keep my hands to myself,” I begin, “but I couldn’t resist the good scotch. Your poison, right?” Using two fingers, I push the glass towards her when she pauses at the end of the island where I’d earlier stood.
“Thank you.” She studies me from under her lashes, waiting for a punchline that doesn’t come.
“What was with the bribery earlier?”
“Lu, you mean? They’re having a sleepover on the school premises as part of a drive to raise money for the homeless. She wants to go.” She adds a tight shrug.
“And you don’t want her to go?”
“I’ve volunteered, so I’ll be there, but . . .” She stops, maybe working through what she wants to say. “She said lots of the dads are getting involved.”
“A private school in Manhattan?” I answer sceptically.
“That’s what she hears from her friends.”
“Probably wishful thinking.”
“If I’m in town,”—which I know I will be—“I could come along if you like.”
“I’m sure you have other things to do,” she scoffs a little too casually to mean it completely.
Things to do other than you?
“You don’t want me there?”
“It’s just . . . because . . .” She begins to flounder, her gaze slipping to the door behind me as though she’d escape.
“Because I’m not her dad?”
“I don’t want her to become too attached. We’re not going to be here forever.”
“I respect that.” And I’ll follow you wherever. I can ignore Hayes Industries from anywhere in the world.
“Well, the offer is there, but in the meantime, you’re welcome to stay here.”
With me. Forever.
“And I say again, it wouldn’t be appropriate. Rose would never have asked if we could stay in the first place if she thought I’d still be here. I’m sure of it.”
“Wouldn’t she?” Something tells me Rose would be delighted if she were a fly on the wall right now. Yeah, because she doesn’t know about Ardeo, my unhelpful mind chooses to supply.
“Rose doesn’t know you as well as she thinks,” she answers dispassionately, almost as though reading my mind.
“I’m pretty sure I could say the same for you.”
“I’m not the one who owns a sex club. Sorry, an adult lifestyle club,” she amends acidly.
“No, babe. You’re just the one hanging out there.”
“I am not your babe,” she retorts. “And I told you it was all a mistake.”
“We’re getting off track here. So Rose doesn’t know us to the depths of our souls. I think we can both agree we’re entitled to our secrets.”
“And I suppose this is a secret you think we should keep from her.”
Oh, such vitriol. Where did that come from? Could Rose have told her about me hitting on her all those years ago? If that’s the case, I like that she doesn’t like it.
“You mean, what happened between us? Go ahead and tell her. Something tells me she might not be so surprised.”
“Because you can’t help yourself?”
“Saturday wasn’t all on me,” I answer calmly. “I guess what I’m saying is how do we truly know anyone?” I half turn to slide my phone from the countertop, realising it’s Fee’s phone I have in my hand. Swapping it for the other, I slide it open as I turn back and begin to scroll. What am I doing here? Stalling for time. “But if it’s an impartial party you need extra reassurance from—”
“Will you get your mummy to vouch for you?” she taunts oh, so sweetly.
Sweet like arsenic.
“Not quite.” A smile tugs at my lips. I think Mom would’ve liked Fee, as sentimental as that sounds.
“Oh, so you’re going to phone a friend?” she continues, warming to her theme.
“I don’t really have time for a séance, and the rest of my family would be the last people I’d call for a reference, so I guess that leaves phoning a friend.”
“Oh, God.” The high colour fades from her cheeks, her expression a little sick. “I’m sorry.” I glance down at where her slim fingers curl around my forearm. “Sometimes, my mouth just runs away with me. I do remember you’d said your mum had passed.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“I’m so sorry. You must think I’m a complete bitch.”
“I don’t think that.” Rotating my arm, I catch her hand as it retracts. “Not at all.” I grab my phone and place it in her hand. “Jonathan Alred.”
“Who?” Her eyes dart back and forth between my face and the screen.
“I’m not phoning a friend. You are.”
“What for?”
“For a reference. If Rose isn’t enough.”
“So he’s, what? Someone who works for you? A former frat house buddy?” I laugh, which only succeeds in raising her hackles. “Or maybe another man about town who—”
“Man about town? It really has been a while since you put yourself out there, hasn’t it?”