Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
“What? No. Not ‘you’ as in me, myself. ‘You’ as in we. Both of us. But not actually ‘we.’ I mean, we don’t want you to—”
“Sophie, please.” She frowned in annoyance at my fumbling. “I’m not upset. I completely understand. Believe me, if I could get all of Michael’s roommates to move out, I would jump at the chance.”
“Well, yeah, I kinda assumed that you and me and Neil were in the same boat.”
“Not quite in the same boat,” she reminded me, with an edge of petty sarcasm I’d come to realize was a sign of her comfort with a person. I suspected Emma only let herself become truly irritated with the people she cared about, because no one else was worth her time.
She folded her arms over her chest and leaned back. “I realize how immature it is to be grossed out by the thought of one’s parent having a personal life, I really do. But you must understand, he didn’t introduce me to the women in his life when I was young. When I was staying with him, he didn’t have overnight guests. Even Elizabeth didn’t sleep here when I was home until they got engaged.”
Wow. That was seriously weird, considering they had dated for two years. Neil sounded way more protective than I’d thought he was… Which was a little scary, because I thought he’d already been acting bananas over Emma’s wedding.
“It isn’t that I don’t like you,” she continued. “Or that I don’t think you’re right for him. You two are lovely together, and I’m thrilled that he’s so happy. I just would rather live in a situation in which his happiness didn’t thoroughly gross me out. Michael and I have been looking at other options, but we don’t want to rely on our parents’ money. I’m having a bit of difficulty…downsizing.”
I could sympathize with her there. Though my old apartment could have fit into this one seven or more times, I’d had a hard time adapting to the Fifth Avenue place after life in the London townhouse. It was strange how accustomed I could get to too much house. I was like a goldfish, my space needs growing in accordance to the size of my bowl.
“You know, your dad and I are actually looking for a place.”
“Really? I had no idea.” Either she didn’t know how to take the news, or she was just bothered by the fact that we hadn’t told her before. “Here in the city?”
“No, we’re actually going to look at a place out in Sagaponack on Monday. Nothing set in stone or anything,” I reassured her.
My phone rang.
I looked down at it, then guiltily back to Emma.
“Go and take it,” she said wearily.
I hit the call button and stood, and Emma grabbed the television remote.
“Neil?” I asked, which was silly, since I knew who it was already. I had no idea why I always did that on the phone.
When he spoke, he sounded tired. “Yes, darling, it’s me.”
“Is everything okay?” I walked from the room, covering the receiver with one hand to block out the sound of the television as I headed to the bedroom. “How did things go?”
“Wonderfully. It all went wonderfully.”
I let out a quiet breath of relief.
“This trip has certainly given me some new perspective,” he added.
Was that a good thing, or a bad thing he was trying to disguise as a good thing through managerial word trickery? I could never tell. He’d built a media empire on his skills at spoken subterfuge and double meaning.
“Wow, I’m glad to hear that.” I remained neutral. I was picking up some of his tricks. “Perspective on what?”
There was a momentary pause, long enough that I would have worried we’d been disconnected, if I hadn’t heard the soft sound of his breath in the receiver. Tension drew up tight in me, like a wire ready to snap. I wanted him to be with me. I wanted to touch him, to curl up beside him and listen to all the dirty details of his evening. And, well, I kind of wished I’d been there, myself.
But then maybe Neil wouldn’t have gotten the “perspective” I hoped he was talking about.
Finally, he said, “I’ll discuss it with you when I come home. I promise. Right now, you need to get your sleep, and I do, too.”
Since when do I go to bed at six? I chalked that one up to sheer exhaustion.
“When I get my hands on you, we’re going to make up for lost time,” he promised.
It was embarrassing how loudly I squealed at the prospect. I knew we were insanely lucky, not only that he had survived the summer, but that we had this whole new chance to fall in love with each other again. But seriously, I annoyed myself sometimes with how gooey and romantic I got.