Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 161434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Sutton puts his tablet back in his briefcase. “I’m delighted we got this squared away, Miss Halle. This is the most productive visit I’ve had with your sister.”
I nod.
“Our car should be here.”
On the ride back, I send Nick three messages before the cab makes it to Sutton’s office. He never responds.
I’m alone in his Maserati and getting more anxious by the minute. It’s later, darker than before.
Should I call since he can’t answer my messages? Would that make me look pathetic?
Sigh.
I don’t know what to do, but I’ll go berserk if I don’t know what’s going on.
Fumbling with my phone, I try calling.
No answer.
Goosebumps pepper my skin.
Abby’s words about how Will swore he was a changed man echo through my mind. What if Nick’s doing the same thing?
Sure, he’s not a fraction as horrible as Abby’s ex, but he’s had his demons. What if one of them finally got the best of him again?
What if he’s back to being the same guy who took me to a gala to make his ex jealous? But he said that’s not why he took me. He wanted it to be a date.
He says a lot of things, though.
I’m beginning to think lying might be hardwired into the Y chromosome.
Thankfully, Abby should be out of jail soon, and I couldn’t have done it without him. At least there’s that.
Doesn’t he deserve the benefit of the doubt? He said he’d explain everything tonight...
Only, I keep wondering what needs explaining. And the more I wonder, the wider the pit in my stomach opens, becoming an abyss.
Keep on going. It’s all you can do.
I’ll do what I planned earlier, I decide—grab Millie and head to Nick’s penthouse. He’ll either be there to tell me what emergency made him run out of the office like a rooster on fire...
...or he won’t. And then I guess I’ll cry myself to sleep on the plush bed in Millie’s room while she wonders what made her aunt such a hot mess.
When I get to Brandt Ideas, Paige waits in the lobby of the executive suite.
“Reese! I haven’t seen you in forever.” She runs up and hugs me.
I’m so not in the mood for this kind of energy today, but Paige has always been a sweetheart so I hug her.
She steps back. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“...you look tired.”
I shake my head. “Oh, whoops. I didn’t realize I looked that rough. It’s been a long week. Is Ward here? I need to tell him I’m heading out a little early today.”
“Nah, not rough by any means, but you’re flushed,” she says, wearing a concerned smile.
Bah. Putting up with Nicholas Brandt will make you see, breathe, and eat red in every shade.
“I’ll talk to Ward once he’s out of his meeting. Grab the kidlet and relax.”
“Do you think he’ll be upset if I don’t talk to him myself?”
She waves a hand and scrunches her nose. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle Ward. Reese, if you need a break for a couple hours, Millie can stay with Tiffany and I’ll drop her off later.”
Her response shocks me. I’m not used to anyone but Abby—and very recently, Nick—offering to help.
“Umm—” I’m about to say Nick and I were going to spend the evening with her and close my mouth when I realize they still don’t know about us. Will has to be dealt with before that cat comes out of the bag. “You’re sweet, but I’ve got her.”
“Are you sure?” Paige asks.
“Totally!” I insist.
Without another word, I walk over and open the door to the playroom. I walk in to say a few words to Tiffany, gasping as something slams into me from behind. Millie giggles as she wraps her arms around my leg. I peel her arms off of me and pick her up.
“Time to see Quick Nick?” she chirps.
“Don’t you know it, bumblebee,” I say, forcing a smile.
Inwardly, I’ve never been more afraid to see Nicholas Brandt than I am right now.
I want to tell her that her mom should be back soon, but I don’t want to jump the gun in case there are any last-minute holdups.
The thing about growing up on the bad side of foster care is, you never fully trust any system, no matter how clear-cut it appears to be.
I put Millie in her car seat and get behind the wheel.
“I wanna hammyburger,” she says.
“We’ll get dinner soon,” I promise.
“Hangry, Auntie Reese.”
Her cuteness could make me break down in tears right now.
Because I’m ten seconds from losing my mind and don’t want to deal with a drive-thru run and prolong the agony, wondering what I’ll find with Nick. But I’m not explaining that to a four-year-old.
So I turn on the kids’ satellite radio station instead and listen to Millie slaughter “A Whole New World.”
The song annoys me.
Why do princesses always get whole new worlds and happily ever afters?