Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Now Sara is smiling. “You’re staying.”
“Yes. And I’m thrilled to be here.”
We chat a few minutes, and she leaves me to my work. About an hour later, I receive a call from Gabe. Fifteen minutes later, I send him samples of my work. Another fifteen minutes later, and I have a new agent. I’m dying to call Nick, but he’s in those intense negotiations. I could text, but that is a distraction he doesn’t need as well. Sara and I celebrate by walking to the coffee shop, and we return with white mochas and chocolate chip bagels. Nick sends me a text at noon: Hell here. I’m going to be silent and late tonight. You okay?
My reply is simple: I’m great. You focus on your negotiations.
He doesn’t respond, which tells me hell is real for him right now. I consider all the ways I can ease the stress when he gets home tonight.
Home.
Our home.
I revel in those words.
It’s nearly six, and Sara has just left the gallery. I’m finishing some paperwork before I leave as well. I file away the documents I’ve just finished, and I’m reaching for my purse when my phone buzzes with a text. I glance at the message to find Bill is the sender.
I need to speak to you urgently. I’m at the coffee shop next door.
My heart starts to thunder in my chest. He’s here? I text him back: What coffee shop?
Rebecca’s, he replies.
How does he know I work here? Did I tell him? Did Kasey?
My fingers hover over the call button for Nick, but I think better. I dial Rita. “How busy is he?”
“At the moment, he has ten people sitting at a conference table, and they all want to kill one another.”
“All right, then,” I say, and because I don’t want to freak her out and have her freak him out, I add, “now is not the time to talk dinner.”
She laughs. “No. Not right now. He could be a while. Or not. Sometimes these things end abruptly.”
“Okay. Thanks, Rita.”
“Congrats on your show, Faith. Nick came in this morning bragging up a storm.”
“He did?”
“Yes. He did. He’s incredibly proud of you.”
“Thanks, Rita. He says it to me, but it’s pretty special to hear it from other people.”
My phone buzzes again. “Talk to you soon,” I say and end the call to read the new message: It’s an emergency, Faith.
He’s going to press me about the winery. I know it. And I’d decline the meeting if I wasn’t afraid he’d go after the winery in some way again and hurt the employees. Or Nick. He could go after Nick, and while Nick can take care of himself, he doesn’t need to fight a war I create when he has his own he’s fighting right now, in this moment.
I stand up and slip my purse over my shoulder, dread in my belly, but I can do this. I’ll navigate whatever he throws at me, milk him for information and missteps, and then hand it to Nick. Ready to get this over with, I hurry through the gallery, lock the doors, and make the quick walk to the coffee shop. I step inside and wave to the regular girl, June, behind the counter before my gaze lands on Bill sitting in a booth.
I cross the space between us and sit down. “What’s the emergency?”
“Look, honey. You’re the closest thing to a daughter I have. I know you don’t believe I care, but I do. And it killed me to be shut off from you.”
“And yet you slept with my mother.”
“That’s a complicated story that I still believe is not my story to tell. But I need you to set that aside, just for now. Because I need to tell you a story that ends right back here, in the present, with you.”
“I’m listening.”
“I heard rumors that you were struggling to pay the bills, and I called the bank. They told me you bought out the note.”
“I did buy it out.”
“You mean Nick Rogers bought it out. He’s an owner now, right?”
“Emergency,” I say. “You said there was an emergency.”
“We need to go back in time. Way back. Your mother had a gambling problem, and they were in a lot of debt. Your father contained it the best that he could. Back before he and I had our falling-out, some men came to him. They offered him a hundred million to sell out.”
I blanch. “A hundred million? Why so much?”
“They were bad men, and there’s mercury on the property, a fact that I had buried way back then. No one else knew.”
“Mercury? I assume it’s valuable, then.”
“It’s used for weapons, and these men were the kind of men who knew all about weapons.”
“How do you know this?”
“Your father came to me in dire straits because they’re also the kind of men that don’t take no for an answer. They’ll pay you, but you take what they offer.”