Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Oh how the times had changed. Something told me Henry had more money than God if he could just pull houses out of his ass and throw bribe money at me like it was pieces of confetti.
Which is what this was… a bribe. Maybe I should be a little more grateful, but who the hell was I kidding. I didn’t want to be here anymore than I’m sure he wanted me to be, than his son will want me to be.
Vance Preston.
The name in itself makes me shiver, and not with fear. I’m not bitter, totally not bitter or angry, or any of those things. It’s not Vance’s fault that my life fell apart like a bad game of Jenga. We were just two kids caught in the crosshairs of an adult situation.
Smoothing my hand over my hair one last time, I look down at my clothing. Skinny jeans and an ACDC shirt. I hope she didn’t expect me to show up wearing a dress? They might regret inviting me after all.
The suitcase is heavy in my clammy hand as I walk up the front steps, stopping at the front door of the place I’ll call my new home. Home isn’t really what I would call this place. It’s more like one of those houses you see in a magazine.
Glamour, over the top.
The only thing it’s missing is a fountain out front but give them a little time, they’ll have one built. The taxi driver didn’t even bother helping me inside, instead he sped off giving me just enough time to get my bag out of the back. Staring at the door, I give myself a couple seconds to gain my composure. One. Two. Three. Exhaling all the air from my lungs out my mouth I let air filter in through my nostrils as I reach out and press the little doorbell button. While I wait, I force a smile to my lips.
Truthfully, my feelings for my mother are confusing. It’s a slippery slope of loathe and love. I want to see her more and spend time with her, far more than I care to admit even to myself, but of all the times to come back into her life it had to be on her wedding day? And to be married to Henry? Yeah, I was pretty sure the universe hated me.
The door swings open a millisecond later and my half-dressed mom appears in the doorway. “Oh Ava, my sweet baby girl. I’m so happy that you made it.” She throws her arms around me, pulling me into her chest, wrapping me up in a hug that’s far tighter than a woman as tiny as her should be able to give. In the process of hugging me, she pulls me into the house as well. It’s almost like she’s afraid I’ll turn around and run away if she doesn’t.
Sucking in a greedy breath of her floral scent I’m taken back to a time when my mom was really my mom, when she didn’t make selfish choices, when she ran my baths, and told me I was the prettiest girl in the entire world. It seems like a lifetime ago and somehow, I wish I could go back.
“Don’t mess up your makeup, Linda,” some lady scolds from inside the house. When the hug ends, I’m left feeling cold. My mom takes my hand into hers and pulls me deeper into the foyer. I barely manage to get the suitcase over the door jamb before she’s closing the door behind us. Jesus. My gaze sweeps across the room and through the house as my mother tugs me along. It looks unlike anything I’ve seen before, marble, crown molding, high ceilings. It reminds me of nothing from the home we shared when we were actually a family and not broken pieces in a picture frame.
The walls are painted a light beige that makes the room seem light and airy. Signs with different quotes adorn the walls, along with photos that I don’t care to look at.
We enter the living room, which is basically just one giant room. There’s a huge leather sectional, fireplace, and flat screen TV set up. Built-in bookcases are on the side of the room and my fingers itch to run along the spines of the books.
The living room opens up into the kitchen, which is all white marble and stainless steel appliances. It looks like something out of a Sears catalog.
In fact, this entire house looks like a catalog.
Like a designer came in and put everything in its perfect place.
“Please, come and sit with me while they finish up my hair and makeup. We have so much to catch up on, sweetie.” I open my mouth to say something, but she continues to tug me down a hallway that leads off the kitchen.