Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
“Sailor doesn’t know anything about you,” he tells me as we get into the car.
“What does she need help with?”
“Everything you can think of. Just do whatever you can to help her.” I nod, not really getting a clear answer, but I know I can wing it when the need arises.
We ride mostly in silence. Joey will ask me an occasional question every now and then, but for the most part we’re quiet.
When we finally arrive in the city, he parks at a two-story brownstone and slides out, then comes around to open my door. I get out and follow him up the stairs. When he opens the door, a woman’s voice echoes down the hall.
“Wren, you better get back here and eat your breakfast before I call your father.”
A little girl with curly dark hair comes running right over, straight into Joey’s arms. She grips his face and kisses his cheeks. “Uncle,” she says, but in that cute little toddler voice that makes it sound like funcle.
“Where is your mom?” he asks, putting her back down. He grips her hand and walks in, then looks back to me. “This way.” I follow him inside and shut the front door.
This place is unreal. I don’t think I have ever stepped into a house of this magnitude and opulence before in my life.
This is family money.
And a lot of it.
The marble floors are smooth beneath my runners and the pristine white walls are littered with paintings that probably cost more than everything I own combined.
I follow Joey through a living room area and into a large kitchen. A woman wearing an apron reaches for something in the fridge with her back to us. Her eyes light up when she turns, then they darken as her gaze lands on Joey with who I’m guessing is her daughter. Or maybe she’s the maid? I scrunch my eyebrows together not knowing what to do or say.
“How does she always know when you’re here?” Her soft voice whines as she shakes her head. “And who is your friend?” she asks, nodding to me.
“This is Chanel. Keir hired her for you.” Surprise lines her face as she lifts her eyebrows. She removes the apron, steps out from behind the kitchen counter, and walks toward me. It’s then I see she’s heavily pregnant.
“Hi, Chanel. I’m Sailor.” She holds out her hand with a smile, and I shake it.
“It’s nice to meet you. You have a beautiful home.”
Her cheeks pinken and she nods. “Yes, I do. It’s a little more than I’m used to. But it’s nice, right?”
It’s better than nice…it’s beautiful, exquisite, a dream, really. But I don’t share those thoughts. I simply nod instead.
“Joey mentioned you need my help,” I say.
“Yes, sooo much. I’m a little flustered if I’m being honest. This pregnancy is kicking my ass more so than my last. I’m tired all day, but there is Wren to contend with and she needs a lot of attention.” She looks over her shoulder to where Wren sits on the couch with Joey. “I have people I could ask like her grandmother, but they already do so much for us. So figured if I could get someone to help me around here, that would be amazing.” She pauses. “I mean…if you’d like to. I know the boys don’t know how to ask, so I just want to make sure you are here willingly.”
“I would love to,” I tell her honestly.
11
Lucas
Joey texted me what time Chanel would be done, so I am sitting out front, waiting. When that time has come and gone and there is no sign of her, I walk up to the door and knock. I hear the laughter before the door is opened by a very pregnant Sailor.
“You still smell as beautiful as ever,” I tell her. She is one of the only women, apart from my own mother, that I can stand to be around for long periods. She blushes but lets me in.
“It’s good to see you again, Lucas. It’s been a while.” It has. The last time I saw her was at their wedding. Keir prefers it if I don’t come around. “Are you here to take Chanel home?” she asks, glancing back over her shoulder. I spot Chanel seated on the sofa, her legs tucked under her as she watches something on the television.
“Yes.”
“Come in. We’re having cake first.”
“I don’t want cake,” I tell her.
“Lucky for you, I didn’t ask if you want some.” She winks and walks away. Chanel turns around when she hears us, her eyes narrowing at the sight of me before she looks away.
“Should I come tomorrow at the same time?” Chanel asks as Sailor sits down.
“Yes, please, that would be amazing,” Sailor replies, picking up her plate and eating her cake. They both look at me as I stand there.