Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
“Where is she?” I beg when I drink in hundreds of faces but fail to find a familiar one. “I promise I won’t fuck this up. I’ll make things right. I just need you to believe in me like I believe in you. I need you to give me a chance.”
My head cranks to the left when a distinct “Ho, ho, ho” fills my ears.
The Santa I’m seeking doesn’t present in person. He’s on a computer monitor in the office of a local travel agency. His red velvet threads have been switched for a Hawaiian print shirt, but he isn’t promoting a Hawaiian getaway. The ad is for a small coastal community on the Austrian Coast.
For a village called Lastres.
CHAPTER 18
Kelsey
“Boils. Menstruation cups. Anal fissures.” I speak clearly and precisely into my phone speaker so there’s no chance the social media ad gods will miss my suggestions. “I’ll even take dating sites if that’s all you're willing to offer.”
I startle when my father enters the living room of my childhood home. I had no intention of running home when my confusion was piqued at a never-before-reached level, but somehow, the email I wrote to my parents about the dissolution of my engagement ended up in the outbox of my email provider instead of the draft folder.
My parents were halfway home before I stumbled on the free-for-all at Zane’s apartment. Since my apartment held more memories from my week with Zane than it did my almost three years with Peter, I accepted my mother’s offer to bunk in my childhood room until I figured out my next move.
“Did you just google anal fissures?” my father asks with a raised brow.
“No. But that’s not a bad idea. Thanks.”
My father is lost as to why I’m praising him, but my mother has a better understanding. She knows me better than anyone and has been my rock the past week.
No. I haven’t moped in my pajamas for a week. I gave the real estate agent the go-ahead to clear out my apartment, put it on the market, filed for an LLC, and commenced trading under my name for the first time.
I also cried while eating chocolate ice cream sprinkled with candy cane dust, but we will save that confession for a day that is mine to tarnish.
Today is Christmas Eve, and I refuse to let anything dampen the magic.
“Let her be,” my mother whispers before pulling my father down to sit next to her so they can share a fresh batch of hot chocolate.
It should hurt to see how in love they are. I was slightly bitter about it when I trudged past their room for the first time and saw the raunchy Mrs. Claus outfit my father had laid out for my mother, but then I realized they didn’t get where they are without the ups and downs every relationship faces.
My grandfather hated my father on sight. He did everything in his power to keep them apart.
But at the end of the day, love won, and I was born nine months later.
We won’t mention that my birthday is September twenty-fourth, or you’ll do the math I wish I never calculated.
Once my mother has my father’s focus solely on her, she gives me a nod of approval to continue altering the trajectory of my universe.
During a moment of weakness my first night home, I googled Single All The Way. Ever since, my Facebook page has been filled with advertisements for Zane’s business. I wasn’t interested in the who, what, when, or how of Single All The Way when my curiosity got the better of me. I merely wanted to settle some theories that arose within me once things settled down.
Predominantly, why did Peter pay Zane days after we met for the first time, and how could he have known Santa would push me in Zane’s direction?
I had this crazy theory in my head about Peter paying the whole of Ravenshoe off to secure the return of his family’s heirloom, but the more I thought about it, the more I disbelieved my theory.
I sought Zane out.
I came onto him with the guise I was going to hire an escort for the night.
And then there was the return of the funds that had been illegally removed from a trading account I started two years ago when I commenced discussions with Peter about leaving Blacks and opening my own investment corporation.
Peter is so cheap he sold securities from my online trading account to pay Zane’s fee.
Mercifully, the money was refunded while I prepared for my interview with Marigold’s—hours before I arrived at Zane’s apartment.
Although I appreciate the return of the funds Peter could end up spending years behind bars for—I wasn’t the first ‘client’ he had embezzled money from—I’m still confused.
Why did Zane refund Peter if he believed his ruse was successful? Peter collected the engagement ring before my interview. He got his supposed money’s worth and then some if his valuation of his mother’s ring is accurate, so his entitlement to a refund makes no sense.