Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 63563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Anyway, right, back to the current fight.
I get down on my hands and knees in the living room, bust out a scrub brush and towel, and start working on an imaginary stain on the hardwood floor in the living room right in front of the couch. This means that from the spiral staircase about forty feet away or maybe more—because this place is truly castle-style huge and antique-looking, even though there are a bunch of modern updates which were thrown in—Ash and Meryl can’t see me.
“Meryl, come on. I’m not giving you the ring. You know all about the curse.”
“I don’t believe in curses.” Meryl has a high-pitched kind of screamy-sounding voice that matches the resting bitch face she usually has going on.
Maybe I’m just jealous because Meryl is definitely a ten from her stacked body with perfect breasts to her wild mane of dyed blonde hair. She’s also the daughter of a big newspaper baron who lives in New York, and she lives there too. She’s just here because she and Ash met at some conference or family dinner or whatever the fuck rich people do to socialize, and they fell in love and are dating now. Meryl is the kind of woman who can rock the shit out of a power suit, and that’s saying a lot.
I peek up from behind the couch, where I can see Meryl at the top of the staircase. She flips her blonde hair over her shoulder and lets out an exasperated sigh. She’s wearing a hot pink power suit and pink heels to match—the super thin kind of heel that only a woman with feet of steel can pull off.
“Good god, Ash, you’re way too old for that kind of thing. Plus, you told me you don’t believe in it either. You said you think it’s stupid. You, your brother, and all your cousins made that crazy pact just to rile your grandma up for her curses.”
Curses? What’s this about curses? I refrain from moving to check my recorder because that would mean pulling it out and giving myself away. I’m very confident it’s recording as it’s never let me down before. I’m practically salivating at this unexpected bit of juicy, delicious bullshit I can most definitely work with. God, this will make one hell of a story.
Eat my ass, you Asswells.
“Meryl…” Ash starts using that deep tone of voice guys use when they’re trying to be calm and rational on the outside because they don’t want to come off as being a jerk, but inside they’re actually total jerks. “I told you about that because I wanted to try and explain to you why a traditional marriage would never work for me. We were both hammered.”
“But you still said you didn’t believe in it. If I recall it well, you said that your grandma’s heart was broken when both her sons got messy divorces, and she went to a fortune-teller—”
“Not a fortune teller.”
“Well, what would you call a lady who does tarot readings?”
Ash sighs hard, and more of his inner jerk leaks out. “Anyway, yes, okay, she had five heirlooms blessed by this lady. And by blessed, I mean cursed. Each one is supposed to help the five of us—my cousins, my brother, and me—meet our soulmates. But seriously, in this day and age, who would believe in a curse like this? However, it’s Granny we are talking about, and when Granny says something is cursed, you better believe it because that woman does not joke around. It’s also why I can’t give it to you.”
“Meryl, this marriage between us is just for show, so my grandmother will leave me the heck alone, and your dad can stop pestering you. It’s good for business. When we want to get a divorce, we can go our own ways. The business will not suffer since the marriage won’t be real. People will eat it up, though. Everyone loves marriage gossip, but they love divorce even more, so we’ll get the double zinger. Two big events.”
God, the Cromwells really are crazier than I knew. That’s what too much money does to a person. It like… fucks your brain or something.
“Yes, this is a marriage of convenience.” Meryl actually seems kind of bored by now, and that makes two of us. “Yes, it will give us a few years of peace while we fake it, and then we can go our own ways. Also, you’re right. It’s good for business all around. The magazines, papers, the online stuff. All of it. When we get divorced, we can say we tried, and we’ll be a few years older by then, so maybe the focus can shift off of us and onto one of your cousins, or brother, or something. Your grandma will stop hounding you, and my dad can give up on grandchildren for good. It’s going to work out whether I’m your soulmate or not. So—”