Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I get it.” She nods. “You need a minute to absorb all of it.”
She’s right.
I do need a minute to absorb everything that’s happened to me these past few weeks, including the realization that the man I wrote about in Wait may have finally stepped into my life.
I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for Berk Morgan.
Eloise jabs her elbow into my ribs, luring my gaze to her face. “You’re daydreaming about all the fame and fortune coming your way, aren’t you? I’ll take care of the store. Go upstairs, plug your phone in and bask in all the attention.”
Four hours later, the most handsome man in New York City walks into Vinyl Crush carrying a brightly colored bouquet and a paper bag.
I’m suddenly grateful that Eloise left for class thirty minutes ago. I need some one-on-one time with Berk after this morning.
After plugging my phone into the battery charger, I ran through all the notifications on my social media accounts. There were hundreds, so I didn’t have a chance to read every last one yet.
I will.
Most were from people who left comments about how much they enjoyed my performance. A few were from men trying to hit me up for a date.
By the time I came back down to the store, my feet were grounded.
The online attention is an ego booster, but I’m not sure it will lead to anything beyond a few extra dollars in my guitar case when I busk.
“There she is,” Berk rasps as he approaches me. “I brought you lunch.”
I can’t say I’m surprised.
He sent me a text message an hour ago asking what my favorite type of sandwich is.
I told him anything with loads of fresh vegetables on it.
Judging from the smell wafting from the bag, he had some grilled chicken added to it.
I lean forward to kiss him softly on the mouth. “Thank you.”
His gaze scans my face. “You’ve got something on your mind.”
“You.”
That lures a broad smile to his lips. “Good. I’m here with flowers and lunch and something much more important than either of those things.”
I grab hold of the lapels of his dark blue suit jacket. “What’s more important than food and flowers?”
His finger traces a path across my forehead to push a strand of hair back. “How would you feel about another guitar lesson after we take Stevie to Axel Tribeca for dinner tomorrow night?”
“I’d love that.”
“We’ll need to do it early.” He chuckles. “Stevie is starving by six, so I booked a table for three at five-thirty. Can you find someone to watch the store?”
Eloise is already scheduled to come in tomorrow afternoon.
I nod. “Absolutely.”
“Stevie insisted that I ask if you’ll have time for another guitar lesson after dinner?”
I tug on his jacket to draw him closer. “I have all the time in the world.”
His lips find mine in a soft kiss before he pulls back slightly. “You’ve just made me the happiest man in this city, Astrid.”
He’s making me the happiest woman in the world, so I’d say we’re even.
Chapter Forty-Four
Berk
Stevie wore her white lace dress to dinner.
She insisted that I French braid her hair. That took longer than I planned, but the result was well worth it.
She was beaming when we met Astrid in front of the restaurant.
I went in for a hug, and Stevie followed my lead, wrapping her arms around Astrid’s waist as she thanked her again for the guitar lesson.
We’re home again now, and as I watch my daughter take off her coat, I’m amazed by how mature she’s becoming.
It’s hard to imagine her as an adult, but one day, that will happen.
All I can do is hope that I’m doing the best job I can with her every single day.
“What did you think of that chocolate cake, Astrid?” Stevie asks as she bounces up to her tiptoes to hang her coat on one of the hooks in the foyer.
Astrid does the same with her wool trench.
When she slipped out of it at the restaurant, I was stunned speechless when I caught sight of the emerald green fitted dress she has on.
The color plays off her eyes and highlights every lush curve of her body.
“Honestly, I thought it was bitter,” Astrid admits as she skims a hand over the skirt of her dress. “The cake we had for dessert the other day was a ten out of ten in my opinion.”
Stevie offers her a curt nod along with a smile. “I agree.”
They both look to me. “My vote is for the cake I baked.”
Astrid’s eyes widen. “You baked that cake?”
“My daddy is the best baker in the world,” Stevie sings my praises. “The best cook too. He makes turkey meatballs that make me weep.”
Astrid works to control a giggle as I bark out a laugh. “They make you weep? Where the hell did that come from?”