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)
“Good,” he says, turning around now. “I’m still going to go home and make a list of things to bring his stock lower.”
I shake my head and open my email, pulling up the project I’m working on. I lose myself in my work, only stopping to grab a bite to eat. I look at my watch and see it’s past four o’clock when Troy gets up and powers down his computer.
“I’m out,” he says, looking over. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I tell him. “I think until I get accustomed to things, I’ll come in.”
“That sounds like a plan. I come in every day. I tried working at home, but I get so distracted. Daytime television is a drug, I tell you, a drug. Price Is Right, Bold and the Beautiful, Judge Judy. Don’t go there. You’ll never come out,” he says, waving to me and blowing kisses with his hand. “See you tomorrow, buttercup!”
I pick up my phone and text Luca.
Me: Hey, what time are you getting Aiden?
He answers right away but not with words. Instead, he sends a picture of him and Aiden, and it looks like they are at a park. The next picture is of Aiden kicking a soccer ball to him.
I don’t have time to answer before the phone rings in my hand, and I see it’s Luca.
“Hello,” I say, leaning back and closing my eyes while I roll my neck.
“Hey,” he says, out of breath as if he was running. “Where are you?”
“I’m still at work. How are you feeling?” I ask him and almost kick myself for even caring. I mean, I should care, right? He is my baby daddy.
“I’m feeling so much better,” he tells me. “Would you like to join Aiden and me for some pasta?”
I almost say no, but then Troy’s words come to mind about making his stock go down. “Sure. Where?” I ask him.
“I’ll text you the address,” he says and tells me, “we’ll be there at five thirty.” We hang up, and I pull the address up on Google Maps and see it’s almost twenty minutes from me, so at five, I close up everything and don’t bring anything home.
I walk out and see the sun is still shining, and it’s a nice day. Making my way to the restaurant, I turn the radio on and sing along to some of the songs. When I finally pull up to the address he gave me, I look around confused. I notice that the inside of this little bistro is very small, and they only have two tables outside. I get out to look at the address when I hear Aiden’s voice.
“Mom!” he yells, and I look down the street at him. He runs to me, his hair bouncing on his head, and a huge smile on his face. I bend down so he can run into my arms.
I pick him up by his arms and bring him to me, kissing his sweaty face. “You’re all sweaty,” I say, laughing.
“I was playing soccer, Mom.” And he rolls his eyes. “I scored five goals, and Dad scored zero, so I won.” He puts his hands up over his head.
I look back to see that Luca is smiling at him. “He’s really good,” he says. “I’m going to look into him joining a league or something.”
“So I can play with other kids.” Aiden points at his chest and informs me as if I didn’t get it. “I’m hungry.” He squirms out of my arms, wanting down.
“When isn’t he hungry?” Luca asks, and I shrug my shoulders. I don’t have time to answer when I look over and see an older man come out of the door.
“Luca,” he says, smiling. “Che bello sorpresa,” What a nice surprise, he says in Italian.
“Giovanni.” He smiles at the man, going over and kissing him on the cheeks. “Voglio presentarti una persona speciale. Questo e mia figlio Aiden e sua madre Eliahn.” The fact he speaks Italian makes my heart beat faster. I want to introduce you to a special person. This is my son, Aiden, and his mother, Eliahn.
“Un Figlio,” A son, he says. “Portare Avanti il nome di famiglia,” Someone to carry on the family name, the man says and then smiles at me.
“Aiden, Eliahn,” Luca says to us. “This is Giovanni.”
He nods his head at Aiden and then comes to me and kisses me on the cheeks like he did to Luca. “Thisa one she’s a beauty,” he says, kissing his fingers and then opening them. “Venire,” Come, he says, “I makea you a table speciale.”
He turns and opens the door, and the aroma hits me right away, and my mouth waters. The smell of fresh tomato sauce lingers, along with the smell of fresh bread.
“Maria!” Giovanni yells from the front, and a short woman comes out of the back, wiping her hands on the white apron.