Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
In the far back is a small Ferris wheel. Red, yellow, green, blue, orange, and purple cars go around and around. Carnival swings are next to them.
“Holy shit, is that a carousel?” I hear from beside me and look over at Noah, one of the partners at my firm. His divorce case was the first one I worked on at the firm. He took me under his wing when he was looking for his now ex-wife and I saved him a whole lot of time and energy. That’s a whole other story about how the playboy got played. Now he stands next to me holding his three-year-old son, Matteo, on his hip.
“Yeah.” Looking at Matteo, I say, “Hey, dude.” He smiles at me. “Fist bump.” He is a frequent visitor at the office, so he knows me well. That and I also slip him chocolate every time I see him there. He puts his hand in a fist and bumps it with mine. “Where is Kaleigh?” I ask him, looking around for his hot as fuck wife. She’s a yoga instructor, and they met when his best friend fell for her sister, who then came to work at the firm. It’s almost like a soap opera.
“She’s home,” he says, “with morning sickness.” His face going full-on megawatt smile.
“No way.” Smiling at him, I grab his shoulder. “Congrats.”
“What can I say? My swimmers are on their A game.” He laughs. “She said let’s have another baby. My sperm said challenge accepted. And boom. Pregnant!” He leans down and kisses Matteo’s head.
“Daddy, I want to go there.” Matteo points at the swings, then moves his finger over to the little circus tents they have set up. One has balloons, and the other one has face painting. “Balloon!” he shouts and squirms to get out of his father’s grasp. Right past those tents, carnival games are set up to win stuffed animals. It’s like the state fair threw up in their backyard.
“I’ll catch you later,” Noah says. Walking to the balloon stand, he holds his son’s hand, almost being dragged by his thirty-five-pound body.
I make my way through the tables, smiling and nodding at a couple of people I know. On one side, you have the rides, and on the other, you have the food.
There is everything from popcorn, to funnel cakes, to corn dogs, and hamburgers. I watch the kids run around; some hold balloons, and some with face paint on them. A couple of them are having full-on hissy fits and tantrums along with one or two having breakdowns.
I see my boss, Leonard, standing almost in the center of it all, talking to a couple of people. He is wearing the same thing as I am except he’s wearing a fedora. By the time I finally make my way to him, he is all by himself.
“Luca,” he says with a smile. Putting out his hand to shake mine, he then smacks my shoulder with his other hand. “So glad you can make it.” His face is in a constant smile.
“I wouldn’t have missed it.” I smile at him. “You must be excited to have your daughter back?” I say, looking around.
“It’s about time she came back home. She went there to ‘find herself,’” he says, using air quotes. “I think she went there to escape the fact she was pregnant and didn’t want to have all eyes on her.” He shrugs. “But the only thing that matters is she’s back.”
“So you’re a grandfather?” I ask when a waiter comes over with a tray of champagne and water bottles. Grabbing a water bottle, I open it and take a drink. “I didn’t know.”
“Yes, Aiden is six years old,” he says with a smile, his eyes even lighting up with that news. “Looks just like his mother,” he says, and I just smile.
“Well, I can’t wait to meet them,” I say, bringing the water bottle back to my mouth.
“Well, you won’t wait long. Here she is,” he says. I turn my head, and it all happens in slow motion. Or at least that is what it feels like. I turn my head, and my eyes meet the blue eyes that have haunted my fucking dreams since I walked off that boat. Her long blond hair is tied on the top of her head in a ponytail. She is looking around, and when she finally turns and her eyes meet mine, her eyes go wide. Her face goes pale, and then I look down at the little boy holding her hand, and I take a step back. He may have his mother’s looks, but those are my eyes.
“Eli,” I mouth.
Chapter Two
Eliahn
Six hours before shit went down
“Mom,” my six-year-old son Aiden calls me from the other room, then comes running into my room. “They have a roller coaster,” he says with big eyes, going to the window and opening the shades to show me.