Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 144696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
“That is the unfortunate downside to dating the owner of a multimedia empire.” He considered a floor-length black silk dress, one I’d never worn because it skirted a fine line between haute couture and lingerie. He raised an eyebrow, pulled it down, and laid it across the open garment bag.
Huh. I was expecting to spend most my time in t-shirts and jeans in hospital waiting rooms. Were they really fancy over in England or something? Had Bridget Jones lied to me? “So... Here’s something I don’t understand. You said you were going to London for treatment. But we’re flying into Bristol and going to a house in Somerset?”
“My country house,” he said, totally casual, like everybody had two houses. “We’ll be going there for Christmas, but we’ll stay at my place in London while I undergo treatment.”
I considered a moment, tilting my head as I regarded him. “You know, I’ve always wondered... when you have two houses, and you’re staying at one, do you have stuff you only keep in one place? Like, do you have two of everything in your clothing and your DVDs and stuff?”
“No. I have what suits me for each location, and anything else I might need, I pack and take with me. I rarely find myself in need of an anorak in London, so those stay at the house in Reykjavik. I don’t often need a suit and tie in Somerset, so I don’t keep them there.”
“Um, how many houses do you own?” And how the hell did he keep track of them all? I lost things in my tiny shoebox of a room and never saw them again. I couldn’t imagine trying to find something if there was a chance I’d left it accidentally on a different continent.
The fact that he didn’t have a number at the ready was even more startling. “Well, there’s the apartment here, the houses in Somerset and London, one in Reykjavik, my lodge outside of Akureyri-“
“I don’t even know where that is,” I interjected.
“Iceland.” He continued, “There’s an apartment in Venice, but that’s obviously not a residence, I keep it as a vacation home... so... five?”
“You own five houses.” I sat down on my bed. I suppose the number could have been significantly higher, but it was still quite a shock.
“Well, six, because I own my sister’s in Kensington, but for all intents and purposes it belongs to her. I’m not about to make her give it back.” He sat beside me. “Are you upset?”
“No, not upset. I just don’t really know how to deal with the fact that my boyfriend has five houses in four countries, when I grew up in continual fear of losing the trailer I lived in.” I shrugged. “I’ll get there.”
“Can I confess something?” he asked, looking at the floor. “I’m having a bit of the same problem, from the opposite side. I’ve never lived a life where money was an issue. My parents were rich, their parents were rich... I was raised the way you were, in terms of work ethic. We were always taught to be grateful for what we had, but we never needed or wanted for anything. I can’t imagine living the way you do. It sounds so unbearably horrible.”
“No, you sound unbearably snobby.” I laughed to soften the statement, because it really wasn’t his fault. He was like an alien trying to comprehend Earthling life. “The most difficult part, for me anyway, is the fact that I have some preconceived notion about how rich people are supposed to act, and you don’t fit into that. You’re just Neil, most of the time, and then I get confronted with something like, ‘Oh, I have five houses,’ and it throws me. Honestly, I don’t even know how much a billion dollars is.”
“One thousand million,” he said, and he sounded embarrassed.
“I can’t get my head around that. And you have six of those, and you’re making more money every day. I’m unemployed.” I sighed.
“I should warn you, then... my house in Somerset is quite large. And old.” He said this like it pained him to admit it. “It’s not a ‘normal guy house,’ as you would put it.”
“If it’s a castle, I’m going to throw up.”
“Not a castle. It’s a nineteenth century neo-renaissance chateau-style manor house.” All of those overwhelming words just fell right out of his mouth in a jumble, and I could only stare at him and blink.
“I know. I heard exactly how it sounded when I said it.” His head dropped, and I couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“Oh, poor baby.” I looped an arm around his back and leaned against his arm. “Listen, you’ve seen how much clothing I own. You know I can adjust to extravagant living.” He chuckled as I continued, “How about this? After you get over this pesky cancer thing, you come with me to meet my family in Calumet. That way, you’ll experience the same culture shock that I’m experiencing now, and we’ll be even.”