Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
I press my hand to my chest as my heart breaks, knowing my mom was in so much agony. After all, Lynette is the strongest person I know, and if this knocked her off her feet, then it must have been terrible. The pain must have been unlike anything I’ve experienced, certainly. My breath hitches.
“I still didn’t realize it was that bad when we talked,” I say in a soft voice. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I wish I’d found a way to get you the money sooner.”
She shakes her head.
“Don’t be silly, honey. You’ve done more for me than most parents ever dream their adult children will do to help them. You’re a hard worker, and I know you’ve done nothing but work your tail off since you moved to New York.”
I smile at her.
“Well, I learned my work ethic from you, so it’s no surprise I like to work hard. It’s enjoyable.”
Mom smiles.
“But you sent a lot more than I need, honey, for this first round of medicine. I can send the extra back.”
“No.” I shake my head fervently, my voice firm. “I sent that on purpose so that you can build an emergency cushion. I don’t want you to run out of meds, and then to wait for days while they’re in the mail.”
Lynette nods, but then looks at me, her blue eyes curious.
“But where did you get all this money, hun?” she asks in a slow voice. “I know you said your new job pays better, but NYC is expensive, and you’re still living on your own, right?”
My heart does a loud thump in my chest and I smile casually, hoping I look confident.
“Trust me, Mom. Bartending in New York City pays a lot better than waitressing, and the bar I work at only caters to upscale clients, so they tip well. It’s been really nice.”
Lynette nods, but I can tell she’s not totally convinced.
“Well that’s good,” she says carefully. “You work hard, so I’m glad you found a job where you make better money.”
“Yeah, me too.” Then, I yawn and feign exhaustion. “I better go because you know that bartending means I’m up nights now. You should get some rest too, Mom. I want you relaxed and comfortable, so that you’re bright eyed and bushy-tailed for the hospital tomorrow.”
Lynette nods, her mind clearing.
“You too, hon. Love you. Bye.”
With that, we hang up and I sigh, relieved. Whew, that was a close call! Something tells me that I’ll have to reveal the truth to Lynette eventually, but thankfully, it wasn’t today. Smiling, I grab a blanket and saunter over to my big comfy round chair before picking up the TV remote. I want to veg out a little, and begin flipping through the recommended movies on Netflix, trying to make up my mind between a comedy or romance. Or maybe a romantic comedy would be perfect because it’s a little of both. I’ve just about settled on one with a nonsensical plot but a very handsome male lead, when suddenly, my phone vibrates under the blanket.
I grab the device and stare at the screen, half-annoyed at the interruption. Can’t these folks tell that I need my me-time? Annoyed, I unlock my phone to read the text, but as soon as I see it, my jaw drops and my pulse starts beating erratically.
Hey, Sierra. This is Mike Macklowe. I got your number from the club. We enjoyed our time with you and would love to take you out again. Are you game?
Am I game? Of course I am! Pulse thrumming, I quickly type a response.
Sure, that sounds great. Perfect. My reply is eager, but not too eager. The casual tone makes it sound like I’m a girl who gets asked out all the time, even if I don’t. Mike types back a response immediately.
Excellent. Club Z’s restaurant has a top-notch chef. Would Saturday at seven work? Don’t worry about your shift at the bar. We’ll make sure Benny gives you the night off.
I’m practically bouncing in my seat now because Club Z has a five star restaurant on premises, and it’s the kind of place that I could never afford to eat at on my own. Even better, it’s probably one of the few restaurants in Manhattan where three men can take one woman for a nice meal without getting mean-mugged by other patrons. Wow. This is a real date. I can feel it. We’re getting to know one another which is so promising, and not like a hook-up at all.
“Eek!” I shriek with glee, clutching my phone to my chest before scrambling to type, “Yes, I’ll be there!” Then I collapse backwards onto the sofa, smiling dreamily at the ceiling. I’ve got to find something to wear. And lingerie. Sexy but nice lingerie is a definite must, and I need some new high heels too. Goodness, Harry, James and Mike have asked me out again, and I can’t wait to see them for more fireworks and fun.