Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I can’t say go talk to your daughter. I just have to hope that that’s what he hears.
He stops, still breathing hard from the race. “Is there a reason you’re telling me this?”
Yeah. A big reason. He’s not a good lawyer for nothing.
“It made me think about your daughter.” I don’t say which daughter. I’ve felt like a liar with Tate for a long time. Hell, I am a liar. But I don’t care. If it takes lying to get him to fix things, then I’ll do it. “If you ever want to talk about her, I’m here.”
As angry as I am, the point of this conversation is, I want him to figure out what he did wrong and fix it.
“Thanks. I appreciate that,” he says.
I nod, then turn the other way. When I leave, I’m still lying to my best friend, but I don’t feel so torn up about it anymore.
When I arrive home, there’s a box waiting at the door. My fingers itch to rip it open, and as soon as I’m inside, I grab a dull knife and slice the tape between the folds, then open the flaps.
I laugh.
And I smile.
And I miss.
It’s a pineapple.
And there’s a card attached.
I hope the race went well. You deserve a pineapple. I know they’re your favorite.
It’s just a pineapple. But also? It’s not just a pineapple.
The next night, Zach and I return from dinner with Nick and Layla and find another package waiting on the front stoop.
“What’s that?” Zach asks, scooping up the small box.
“I have no idea,” I say honestly, and I hope it’s not something I really shouldn’t open in front of him.
For a few seconds, I picture naughty things. A photo of Jules in pink lace panties and nothing more. Silk boxers. Or even something classy and sexy, like cufflinks—but that would still require an explanation.
When Zach rattles the box, something rolls from side to side. When I see a red pepper on the side of the box, relief washes through me, along with amusement.
Inside, I open it. It’s a jar of chili flakes and a note.
Five out of five.
I try to hide a smile. I swear I do. But I know, I just know there’s a hidden message behind this five out of five.
“Dad, this is a boring gift. Why don’t people send you a jar of chocolates or something? Or a jar of pizza?”
He makes a good point. “A jar of pizza would be a good idea.”
But I like the chili flakes more. I text her when Zach goes to bed.
Finn: So, what’s a five out of five, Jules?
Jules: You know.
Finn: Do I?
Jules: Yes.
Finn: Say it.
Jules: You.
That damn You.
That might be the best gift ever from her.
A part of me doesn’t know what to do with this note, or with her, or with all these feelings that aren’t going away.
But another part does.
31
IT HAPPENS
Jules
“So, it’s a go?” I ask Bridger, barely able to contain my excitement after he delivers the news.
My boss leans back in his desk chair, the picture of a cool, confident executive. “We got Captain Dude. Thanks to you.”
I’m glowing. I can’t even sit down. I just pace in front of his desk because I’m bursting. “That’s amazing. Totally amazing.”
“You deserve the credit.”
I shake my head, too overjoyed to accept his praise. I want to tell Zach. I want to tell Finn. Sure, there are no guarantees a project will get made, but securing the rights is the first step, and we have them.
“You started reading the books and you tipped me off. The author will be in town for a reading next weekend. We can meet him and talk about the project.”
Bridger stands, comes around the desk, and stops near me. I can sense this is important to him so I stop pacing and meet his eyes, letting my smile disappear. This feels serious.
“When you first started working for me, you were a diligent, hard worker. That was all I knew. But over time, you’ve proved your knowledge and acumen. I couldn’t have built Opening Number without you. The work you’ve done on all our shows is tremendous, from The Rendezvous to Happy Enough. And now to find a project like this,” he says, shaking his head in amazement. “Just promise me this—if anyone ever tries to court you, give me a chance to make you an offer and keep you.”
I’m floored. But what would he do if he knew I slept with the head of a network we pitch shows to?
“And I’d like to give you a raise and a promotion,” he says.
I should jump for joy. But my shoulders fall. I can’t take this if he doesn’t know.
But there’s nothing to know, another voice argues.
And yet, there is.
“Bridger,” I begin, then I go to the door and shut it. I have to be careful. I’m not involved with Finn, and I don’t want to presume I ever will be. But I don’t want to cause a scandal either. I think that’s the message Solange was trying to impart. Be careful.