Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“Oh, this must be good news.” She falls in step beside me. I’d have kicked off my heels already if it weren’t for the fact that my place is freshly cleaned and mopping is my least favorite chore.
“The best.” I unlock my door and turn the handle. The scent of candles I had lit last night permeates the air still, and I absolutely love it. The fresh scent of pine, white birch, cedar, and clove. I love this time of year. The air is crisp, holidays are looming closer. “You are now looking at the new employed paralegal at Ayala & Thomas Entertainment Law Group. I mean, I’ll be an intern for six months at first, but it’s still a paycheck,” I tell my mom, excited that I won’t have to work at the only other office that offered me a job, because seriously, the vibe in that office gave me the creeps, let alone the human resources manager who had no problem leering at me.
“I’m so happy for you! This is cause for a celebration. Forget a dinner at home. We’re going out to dinner. Your dad can spring for it this time.” I was right. My parents off-loaded the heavy stuff with the help from their neighbors, so by the time I made it into town Saturday afternoon, all I had to do was unpack, put the furniture where I wanted it, and decorate my place with what I had to work with. I still need and want a few things, but my main objective was to get a job, start making money to replenish my savings, and only then will I do the shopping I’m craving to do. “Wow, girlfriend, you’ve been busy. It looks great.” The walls are still bare but other than that everything is in its place, minus my bedroom closet that is an absolute shit show after this morning’s fiasco on what to wear.
“Thanks, Mom, and I’m good with dinner at home or out, just as long as it’s not too late. The firm opens at eight o’clock, and there’s no way I’m going to be even a minute late.”
“As if I didn’t know that. How about we do dinner here but have your dad spring for some steak? I’ll make the mashed potatoes and Brussels sprouts you like. I think Dad still has a bottle of red that you enjoy, too.” My stomach rumbles at the mention of food, letting me know it’s time to make a sandwich. The liquid caffeine in the form of coffee from earlier this morning isn’t holding me over.
“That sounds better than getting dressed up. I’ll have to do that enough during court hearings.” I step out of my shoes and slide my jacket off that came with the skirt, thanking the credit card people for allowing me to pay a buttload of interest, but like my dad says, it takes money to make money. Kingston probably gave me a leg up, along with Mae, and I know there’s a whole lot that still needs to be talked about with King regarding that little bombshell he dropped, but I’m just going to leave the ball in his court to see what he makes of it.
“Then it’s done. Give me a hug, rest for a little bit, and then come to the house if you want to hang around the pool. I’ll have your dad light the fire pit, and we can talk more.” I move towards her for another one of her hugs, absolutely knowing I’m going to wash what little makeup I’m wearing off, take my hair out of its tight hold to let it hang loose, and don’t get me started on the bra. Those things freaking suck. I get that they’re a necessary evil; it’s probably why the first thing women do when they get home is take the damn contraption off. Honestly, if I weren’t in the business industry, where dressing professionally is a necessity, I’d forego them all together. Sadly, that’s not the case, so I’ll deal with the hand I’ve been dealt.
“Give me thirty minutes, and I’ll meet you down there. Do you have a box of brownies?” I ask Mom, knowing the sweet tooth in our family runs deep. If I’m home, it’s in the form of dessert. Any other place, there’s some kind of fruity type of candy near me. Some people are addicted to coffee, and while I like that, too, one cup is plenty to get me started; it’s candy that keeps me going.
“That’s a silly question. There’s even vanilla ice cream.” The worry of the Kingston situation is going to be put on hold tonight. It’s time to relax and hang with my parents.
“See you soon,” I tell her, pulling back.
“Whenever you’re ready. I’ll make sure your dad has pants on at least,” Mom teases, and I swear I’m not sure who’s the worst of the two.