Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Maya leans forward, curiosity animating her features. “Wow. That must be fascinating. And challenging. I had to have part of an eighteenth-century ceiling replaced in a property last year. Finding someone who could replicate the hand-carved plaster mold was almost impossible.”
“That’s always a challenge,” Bailey Anne agrees. “So many of those skills are dying arts in this day and age. I ran into something similar with a staircase railing last fall. But I found a craftsman in the UK who still carves spindles in the same style.”
“And what about you, Harold?” Maya asks, glancing down at her purse as her phone vibrates again. But once again, she leaves it in her bag. “What do you do?”
“I’m retired now, but I used to be this brilliant boy’s boss,” Harold says, sending a fresh rush of nerves straight to my stomach. I take another sip of champagne, watching Maya’s expression as he adds, “Never met a kid so smart about numbers and so clueless about people.”
Maya laughs as she glances between us, clearly trying to decide if he’s serious. “Really?”
“He almost got fired twice in the first month,” Harold confirms. “Had no idea when to keep his mouth shut or play dumb so his superiors didn’t feel stupid for not understanding his math on the projections. But his math was spot-on. So, I told the rest of them he was staying put.”
“And then he taught me how to navigate office politics,” I add.
Maya blinks. “And what office was this?”
“One of the biggest banks in New York,” Bailey Anne supplies, arching a brow my way. “Are you being modest again? Why am I not surprised?” To Maya she adds, “He’s a genius with numbers, graduated high school when he was practically a fetus, and was off making straight As at Columbia while the rest of us were failing Pre-Calc and getting drunk in Stephanie Crier’s attic.” She motions to me with her champagne flute. “But that’s not the kind of character reference I’m here to give. Yes, he’s a genius and very successful, but when it comes to relationships? Disaster.”
“Hey,” I say, my frown deepening as Harold adds, “I’ll second that. I knew his marriage was doomed from the start.”
Maya’s lips part, but if she’s shocked to hear that I was married, she doesn’t show it. “Really? How so?”
“They didn’t laugh together,” Harold says. “Love without laughter never lasts. It’s like expecting a plant to grow without sunlight.”
“And she cheated on Anthony like it was a sport and she was training for the Olympics,” Bailey Anne adds, making Maya wince.
She meets my gaze across the table, her usual compassion shining her eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you,” I say, “but it takes two to make a marriage fail. When I realized we were growing apart, I didn’t try nearly as hard as I should have to bridge the distance. Instead, I found excuses to stay late at the office, until one day I came home early and she um…” I clear my throat with a soft laugh. “She clearly wasn’t expecting me.”
“She was boinking the doorman,” Harold offers, making my brows shoot up my forehead. “Well, she was,” he maintains. “No sense sugarcoating it.”
“And ever since then, our boy has hidden his heart away,” Bailey Anne says, making me squirm a little. This isn’t what I was expecting, but I should have known better than to think Bailey Anne would pull any punches. “Which is a shame,” she continues. “Because he’s got a great heart. Even when we were kids, Anthony was always the guy you could count on to stick up for you on the playground or share his cookie at lunch. He never talked shit or spread rumors and without his free tutoring, I’m pretty sure I would have failed geometry in seventh grade. Does any of that surprise you?”
Maya’s cheeks flush as her fingers trace up and down the stem of her glass. After a beat, she shakes her head. “No. It doesn’t.”
My chest goes tight with hope, but before I can speak or catch her gaze, Harold adds, “And when my wife was hit by a taxi driver crossing Fifth Avenue, Anthony was the first one at the hospital. He held my hand until my daughter got there, and then he held us both together until we got the news that Maggie was going to be fine. That’s not something I expected from an employee, but I sure was grateful. And I’ve never forgotten it.” He turns to me, his blue eyes misty, making the backs of my own eyes start to sting. “I confess, I was hoping you might end up my son-in-law someday, Anthony, but then Deb had to go and take that damned pasta class.”
We all laugh, his joke breaking the tension just in time.
As we reach for our glasses, Maya’s phone buzzes again, three times in rapid succession. She reaches into her bag, glancing at the screen with a small frown before turning it off. “I’m so sorry. I swear, I’m not usually this popular.”