Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Court wanted nothing to do with it.
He was the worst, and he made my job hell.
Still, I’d been an inch away from kissing him.
And I didn’t even like him. Or want to kiss him.
I sighed as I parked my Mercedes in front of my dad’s house in the Valley. I knew why I was obsessed over this. It was easier to think about a stupid almost-kiss with Court than it was to deal with Josh. Or the fact that he was still in London, shooting the final Bourne movie with his costar Celeste. Or that I’d just cleared out my belongings from his house and had them shipped back to New York. Or that I was going to have to file divorce papers.
End the perfect marriage.
I closed my eyes and choked back that thought. I didn’t want to divorce Josh. I’d thought we were forever. But I wasn’t a pushover. I wouldn’t be used. And there was no fucking way that I would ever forgive what he’d done to me.
I still didn’t want to do it.
Nor did I want to walk inside and face my dad, stepmom, and half-sister, Taylor. But I couldn’t come back to the city and not see them. So…here I was.
Swallowing my frustration, I pushed my shoulders back and stepped out of the car. It looked so out of place out here. I looked out of place.
My dad worked a camera for a local news network. He made okay money, but Ashley didn’t work, except to sell some direct sales products. It changed every time I was here. Last time, it had been something to do with her nails; the time before that, she’d had a collection of super-soft clothes. And I was pretty sure she’d done a bender on essential oils. She meant well, but I didn’t think she’d had any real success with it.
I stepped up to the front door and knocked. I impatiently checked my phone, tapping my high-heeled foot like a bad habit, and brushed a speck of dust off of my white jeans. Why the hell had I worn them here?
When I’d gone to the house I’d shared with Josh the last three years, I’d torn everything else out of my closet, except this outfit. I’d hired a company to pack up and ship everything that remotely belonged to me. Every scrap of me would be gone from Josh’s house by the time he returned from London.
Now that I was here, I should have just gone with shorts and sneakers. I was used to dressing up for my job, and I planned to head to the agency after this. But it still felt wrong.
The door opened. Ashley stood there with her platinum hair in a messy bun on her head and a wide smile on her face. “Anna!”
“Hey, Ash,” I said to my stepmom.
I knew that she liked me to call her mom, but I’d never been comfortable with that.
She stepped back to let me in. “Joe! Anna’s here.”
I followed her inside. My insides squirmed as I looked around the house I had spent high school in. The same couch and picture frames and shaggy beige carpet. No one in Hollywood would guess that I was a girl from the Valley.
“Don’t you look beautiful,” Ashley said. “Look at those shoes! I’d break my neck in those.”
I laughed. “You get used to them.”
“If you say so.”
Ashley was really great, except that she was my stepmom.
My dad appeared then in a ratty Dodgers baseball shirt and the same shorts he’d had since I was a kid. He half-smiled at me. As much enthusiasm as I ever got from him.
“Hey, Bug,” he said. “What brings you all the way out here?”
I reminded myself not to grit my teeth. He didn’t mean to sound accusatory every time I came to visit. “I was in town. Thought that I’d come see you all before I headed back to New York.”
“Oh, right. Don’t know how you can survive that city.”
“You’ve never even been,” I said with a small laugh.
He shrugged. “Don’t have to go to know LA is the only place I ever want to live.”
“Can I get you a drink?” Ashley asked, breaking up the conversation.
“Sure. Whatever you have is fine.”
“Margaritas it is!”
My dad sighed. “She’s driving. Just get her a Coke.”
“A Coke is fine,” I confirmed with a defeated Ashley.
She slipped out of the living room, leaving us alone. We stood in silence for a few minutes. Things had never been the same between us. Not since the divorce. Even before that. I never forgot the person he’d been. And then he’d gone and married someone else. It didn’t matter that I liked Ashley. He’d replaced my mom and then gone and replaced me.
“Taylor’s at the beach with some friends,” he said as if reading my thoughts.