Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
“Excuse me?” She tilts her head to the side, her eyebrows displaying her confusion.
“Let me rewind about—” I glance at my Apple watch. “—nine hours. No ten. Because I was in there digging for about an hour before….” I let my words trail off dramatically, pretending I can’t feel Vi’s dagger eyes aimed right in the middle of my forehead as I take a careful sip of my latte to make sure it’s cooled enough before putting the lid back on.
“Befooore…?” she prompts, but I purse my lips and raise my eyebrows in a hoity-toity expression just to make her a little crazier while I keep her waiting, using my thumbs to press the lid down, circling the top five times before my voices stop taunting that the lid isn’t on all the way and is going to cause a disaster to ensue if I don’t.
Being the amazing friend she is, even though I was just teasing her seconds ago, she doesn’t interrupt the ritual and waits until I take an extra-careful sip from the opening in the lid to make sure it’s on tight. Too many times she’s watched me have to repeat a process if I lost count, and she’s also witnessed full-on panic attacks if I wasn’t given the chance to.
I’m such a fucking joy, I tell you.
No wonder those “friends” gave up on me so easily. Even the chance to have someone “on the inside” of the book industry wasn’t worth all the shit they had to put up with just being around me.
“Befooore?” Vi singsongs a little more aggressively, distracting me from my thoughts, and I lift my eyes to her glaring ones.
I sigh and say in a breathy British accent, “Before I was rescued by a handsome prince.” I snort at that, shaking my head and continue in my own lightly Southern-accented voice. “Actually, I have no idea if he was handsome. But he had pretty eyes and cool earrings. That’s about all I saw of him though. Oh! No… he also had great hands.” I nod quickly. “Big. Very vascular.”
She lifts an already arched dark brow at me. “Very vascular?”
I slouch and narrow my eyes at her now. “Come on, wordsmith. You know! Like… veiny. Masculine. Fucking manly man hands.”
Her expression goes back to its former confused state. “How exactly did you only manage to see this man’s eyes, earrings, and masculine manly man hands if he was rescuing you? And more importantly, why was he rescuing you? What happened?”
I take a sip of my latte, then sit back against the cushion of the booth, getting comfortable to set the scene for her. “Picture it, Sicily, 196—”
“I swear to God!” she finally yells, making me bust out laughing.
“Fine!” I give in, and I lean toward her instead before starting from the very beginning of the night, when I decided to hit my usual Friday-night spot, the orange-apron container of doom. When I get to the part where I found the golden barrel cactus and start to veer off on a highly detailed explanation of where that particular cactus hails from and its water and light-exposure needs, she gestures with her hand for me to hurry up and get back on track.
“Sorry. Right. Okay. And then there was this loud bang that scared the ever-loving shit out me, and I fell forward and almost dropped it. And that pissed me right the hell off, especially when this jerk starts telling me I had to leave. But I stood my ground. You’d be so proud of me, Vi. I didn’t just tuck tail and run. I know the laws. So I argued. Me! You know I don’t do confrontation. But come on. Golden. Barrel. Cactuses. They’re like sixty bucks a pop!” My voice has risen with my excitement, and she’s nodding with a small smile on her face. I know it’s probably more for my benefit than what she’s actually feeling, because I haven’t gotten to what will be the entertaining part for her.
“That is a big deal for you, babe. Then what happened?” she encourages.
I make crazy eyes at her along with a grin that takes over my whole face before bringing my expression back to a serious neutral. “Then… he had a point I could no longer argue with. I technically was trespassing on private property and had to leave, so I decided my two new plant babies were more than enough treasure for one night and would call that a win. But just as I was maneuvering to get out, the goddamn pegboard I was standing on snapped—or something, I don’t really know exactly what I was standing on. But it had a bunch of holes in it yet seemed sturdy enough. Anyway. I managed to catch myself and the cactus, but…”
Her eyes are wide with concern now, and I catch her looking me over to see if I have any visible injuries. “But?”