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)
“Because I’m fucking beat, and Fyo can drop me off after he drops you. You’ll have to put up with me for another half hour.”
“It’s your driver and you run the whole company. You should go home first.”
I shake my head. She’s only seen me picked up from the condo I own downtown.
“My main residence is a drive from Seattle, and you look more tired than me.”
She nods slowly and listens for once.
I stand, helping her up from the couch. “Let’s go.”
Her hand lingers in mine as we walk.
A minute after we’re in the SUV, she’s falling asleep.
I don’t wake her until Fyo stops in front of an A-frame house in a residential neighborhood.
It’s an older part of town, but it’s clean and well maintained. Though her house is the only one without a car in the driveway, and I don’t see any back-alley parking like some older homes around here.
Odd.
“Should I wake her?” Fyo asks quietly from the driver’s seat.
“Leave it to me.”
I slide out of the vehicle and gather Piper in my arms, ready to carry her inside.
Halfway to her doorstep, she stirs, grabbing at my shirt collar. “What? Wait. Put me down.”
“You’re exhausted and we’re almost there.”
“Yeah, thanks. I can walk five steps on my own,” she insists.
But when I set her down, we’re right in front of her door.
She gives me a longing glance over her shoulder before I walk back to the vehicle. I leave the window open once I’m in the back seat.
“Should we go?” Fyo asks.
“No, I want to make sure she’s inside before I leave.”
I watch her fish keys out of her purse and let herself in. I don’t exhale until I see the light switch on and her curved silhouette moving behind the curtains.
“Drive,” I say, punching the window up.
“I take it your talk went well?” Fyo asks with a snort.
I stare into the night without meeting his eyes in the mirror.
He nods. “Sorry, Mr. Winthrope.”
11
Mind Your Beeswax (Piper)
The next day, I find Maisy crumpled in a nest of blankets like the kitten she is.
She cradles her phone with both hands, her thumbs flying across the screen as she texts with all her focus. Her tongue pokes out the corner of her mouth.
So adorable.
So innocent.
It’s one of those rare moments where you can’t forget she’s still a kid at heart.
And she looks up from her screen and smiles, finally noticing me. “Pippy, what’s shaking?”
God, this is hard.
I fiddle with the knob of her open door so I don’t have to make eye contact.
“Big news. I have to go to Chicago for work this weekend.”
“Chicago!” She bolts up, wide-eyed and beaming. “That’s hella sweet. When? Are they paying for it? I hope you get me a job that pays for me to fly everywhere!”
I hold up a hand. “Not quite everywhere. It’s just the Windy City, and yes, they’re paying.”
“Then why do you look like you have to go to a freaking funeral?” Her gaze sharpens.
Crud.
Now comes the hard part. I try not to grimace.
“I don’t think you heard me the first time. It’s this weekend.”
It takes a few seconds to sink in.
Then her face falls. “Oh. But the soccer game—”
I sigh out my soul.
“I know. I’m sorry.” I pause, her kicked puppy look killing me. “Actually, forget it. I’ll call Winthrope and tell him he’s covered with Jenn. I originally signed on as an entry-level employee without these travel demands. If he needs more, let him demote me. You’re not missing your game.”
“Pippa, you can’t!” She pulls her knees to her chest and hugs them. “I’ll stay here and watch Dad.”
“Not happening. Maisy, you’re growing up, but you should still get to be a kid sometimes.”
“I’m not a kid!” she throws back with teenage indignity. “I’m seventeen. Old enough to move out in a lot of places. Just go do your job—”
“But your game—”
She shrugs. “It’s no big deal. It’s not like I’m playing. Trina and I were just going to watch and ogle her, um, crush.”
I raise a brow.
That tone of voice says it definitely isn’t just Tina’s crush.
“I feel awful for cramping your dating life. You deserve a better one than I had at your age.”
“Oh, sis, it’s no big. I promise.” She holds up her fingers like she’s being sworn in.
Yeah, I’m not convinced.
And even if I was, a seventeen-year-old girl shouldn’t shoulder the emotional burden of taking on a disabled father alone. I still have a life—in theory, anyway, whenever Captain Grumpmuffin isn’t working me to death—even if I’m covering the finances.
But you did your time. And took care of Maisy too.
That’s not the point.
“It’s settled. I’m staying. Tell Trina you’re planning to have fun. It’s your weekend.”
“What’s going on?” Dad barks over my shoulder.
“Jeez!” I jump at his voice and then laugh nervously. “Don’t make me put a bell on you, Dad. Did that last hospital stint give you stealth powers?”