Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
I stare at her, noting the way she still won’t meet my gaze.
“Spit it out. I won’t bite,” I say, more dryly than intended.
“I just wanted to know if it was okay if I head out a little early today? Once I get my work done, I mean. Arlo has a karate lesson tonight and I can’t be late.”
“For sure,” I say, wondering why she even needs to ask permission. Unless one of the staff—who seem to adore her—were to tell someone, I’d never know. “Your hours aren’t as important as the deadlines. I’ve told you before. As long as you wrap up your work and sign everything off for our overnight guy, you can leave when you’d like.”
“It won’t be a regular thing,” she assures me. “Just tonight.”
“Was I complaining?” I stand reluctantly, hating that I wonder even more about her life. Why does she feel so small that she has to beg for time off just to be with her son? “Do you feel like you’re handling the workload?”
“What do you mean?”
“Am I laying it on too thick?” Like the Minnesota project, which is outside her duties here. “I understand you need a life outside this place, Salem. You’re a mom.”
“Thanks. That’s very considerate.” She frowns, her brows knitting together.
Her surprise irritates me.
“I never like to overwork my employees. Like I’ve said before, that’s for executives only.”
“I’m not overworked, Patton.” She turns back to her screen now. “As a matter of fact, I like it. And if I help contribute to your expansion, that’s a great thing for my résumé.”
For when she leaves.
Which is inevitable, sooner or later, because this job and a glorified mentorship isn’t meant to be a long-term forever career. I’m sure she has dreams beyond the company, whether that’s leveraging this experience for a new job or another business venture.
“Of course,” I growl.
Understandable. All of it.
I just don’t get why there’s this anxious gnawing in my chest at the thought of her walking out of my life a second time, like a stranger in the night.
Goddamn, that isn’t my place.
I shouldn’t want to leave a permanent mark on her life.
Especially when her moving on is clearly what’s best, the only thing that should happen in any sane world.
“Get out of here at a decent hour,” I tell her.
When I turn around in the doorway and look back, she’s barely nodding, already back to crushing her improvements like I was never here at all.
11
LOSING STREAK (SALEM)
Iget Arlo to his martial arts lesson just in time with a check in my hand for the instructor.
Another payment made.
Another activity he won’t have to quit because I can’t pay the tab.
Another round of messages from Kayla—flipping Kayla—ignored.
Patton doesn’t need to find out I was only hired so I can be an unwilling matchmaker for my spoiled frenemy.
The heavy clouds hanging in the sky when I left the office have opened up. Thick white flakes stream down on the city, coating it in fresh snow.
I have to be careful driving. The plows are infamously bad at handling snap snowstorms with this sort of heavy, wet mush.
Any other day, I might be happy that it’s my only problem.
Arlo loves the snow so much, just seeing it seems to make him calmer.
And my happiness comes from seeing his joy in the little things, enjoying how the world unfolds with a child’s eyes.
I can handle a little cold and a couple achy feet tonight for his sake. There’s no denying it’s beautiful, too, even if it makes the roads dicey.
By the time his class finishes and we’re walking across the parking lot, into the chaotic winter night, everything glitters with white fluff.
“Mommy!” He sprints across the slick parking lot ahead of me, his face still flushed from the junior karate moves. “Look, it’s snowing.”
He tries to catch a few puffy flakes on his tongue.
“And you need to tuck both arms back in your coat,” I say with an affectionate sigh. “Come here, let me help you.” I twist him around and push his arms back through the arm holes. “Now let’s get you in the car before you catch a cold.”
“Wait, wait! Mommy, you’ve gotta see this.” He strikes a combat pose, holding one little fist up parallel with his shoulder and the other by his waist.
He looks so fierce I almost laugh.
“I saw it. I watched your whole class, sweetie, but very cool. Keep practicing. Your teacher will like that. Now, Mommy’s getting cold, so can we practice more at home?”
“It’s snowing!” he yells excitedly.
“And my fingers are falling off. I need new gloves.” All of me is frozen, really. I’ve barely been outside for a minute and I can feel the wind snaking under my coat. “You can practice all you want once we get home, okay?”
“Promise you’ll watch me?”
“Do pinkies ever lie?”