Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“Well, yeah. But when I saw you two were actually into each other... I joked around. I may have helped kindle some false hope, and I should’ve known better.”
“No, Jenn. The only voice of reason I needed was in my head. When I basically walked into him in the office that day, I should’ve walked right out and found another job.”
I sigh until my lungs rattle.
“Pippa, you needed money. Nobody faults you for that. How’s your dad doing, anyway?”
“Really well. No bad interactions with the gene therapy yet, and he’s more or less healed from the fall. They’ll be home next week. I would have told you sooner, but I was kinda busy with Brock ruining my life.”
“Oh, honey...” She leans toward me, pushing the box of tissues closer. “Can I ask you a question, though?”
I nod, blotting my eyes.
“Can you just walk out and give notice? You don’t think he’d make you pay for your dad’s stuff, do you?” she asks.
“No, but he should. And I still have the same money problems. I don’t know how many long-term studies there are to really know what life could be like for Dad in a few years. We’re about to find out if this is a long-term cure or a gimmick.” I shake my head. “He seems okay for now, at least. That buys me time to figure something else out. I can’t keep working at Winthrope.”
“I don’t blame you. It sucks that you came up with the whole review strategy and somebody else will take the credit when it’s done.” She shakes her fist comically.
“You had a huge hand in that, Jenn. You can have my performance bonus. I never wanted to be stuck in a nine-to-five anyway. Who knows how long I would’ve lasted without that big stupid bear of a man.”
My throat tightens again, but I hold in dry, rasping sobs until I’m out of tears.
I don’t even know when I pass out on the sofa or when Jenn throws a fluffy blue blanket over me.
When I wake up, everything hurts. Jenn lounges on the other end of the couch, stuffing ice cream into her mouth.
“Oh, you’re awake. You hungry?”
My stomach gurgles. Definitely not.
“I’m fine...”
“Rocky Road?” She passes the pint over with the spoon jabbed in the middle. “When you can’t eat solid food, a big pile of ice cream is the next best thing.”
“Deal.”
I sit up with a groan and take the pint. I don’t realize how starved I am until I’m shoveling in one heaping bite after the next, washing my worries away with chocolate and marshmallow fluff.
“Oh, whoops.” I don’t look up until it’s halfway gone. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to take your ice cream...”
“We’ve got three more pints in the freezer. Had a feeling I’d better stock up,” she says with a grin.
What are best friends for?
“I’m just too lazy to get up and grab another one, and you seem—distraught.” Her tone drops an octave on that last word. “You were too upset to talk much earlier, and I don’t mean to pry. But can I ask what actually happened?”
I tell her everything between more spoonfuls of Rocky Road. Brain freeze is a great way to dull the heart pain.
“I still don’t understand,” she says when I finish. “He thinks this Finch dude will send goons to follow you home or something?”
“Who knows. He wouldn’t say. But I can’t deny he has good reasons to be worried... you know the pictures of us that got publicized? Finch wanted to engineer a scandal for Winthrope Resorts. All so he could win this stupid award, and I guess Brock thinks Finch might have something else up his sleeve—”
“For you? But why? Does this freak have no limits?”
I scrape out the last bite of ice cream and swallow.
“Between Brock’s paranoia and the way Finch creeps around, you tell me.”
“Yikes. Could it be more personal?” she wonders. “Unless he thinks screwing with you would upset Winthrope. And if he thinks that, the bosshole all but admitted it by sending you away.”
I stare at the empty ice cream container, fiddling with the spoon.
“...I still don’t know how much he cares about me. It never made sense, Jenn. A freaking billionaire model with a hotel empire at his beck and call. This was never meant to last.”
“Don’t say that!” she hisses. “Um, sorry. I just think that the fact he was actually nice to you means something. Before you, I didn’t think Winthrope had a kind bone in his pinky.”
“The whole thing is weird, what with the way the story broke while we were at that conservation thing in LA” I admit. “Seems fitting. I was in an awesome dress I never would’ve bought in a million years on my own. He knew everyone in the room. Finch nailed him right where it hurts—and he used me to do it. But I wonder if Brock is more upset about that or the fact that this idiot got the jump on him...”