Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Aodhan paid for both, and then they went to sit down at a table that was across the room from my early-morning employee, Theresa.
Theresa wasn’t my favorite person in the world, but she did her job, showed up on time, and ultimately didn’t complain when I left her to deal with everything on her own. Which I had to do a lot because I was infinitely broken.
But, sensing the episode had passed that had brought me to my chair in the first place, I got up.
After making sure that my body did what it was supposed to do—as in it stayed upright—I tiptoed toward the door that separated my office from the main room. My office door was about ten inches from the table that Aodhan had chosen to sit in.
Subconsciously, I hoped that he’d chosen that particular table because it was closer to me. Logically, though, it was likely because it was far away from where Theresa liked to eavesdrop so she had every bit of juicy gossip that she could.
The other problem was, she looked a lot like me.
I was on the shorter side, had long, curly, auburn hair, and was on the too-curvy side of curvy. Well, minus the boobs. I’d had those hacked off last year to a more manageable handful rather than a “there’s no way you’re gonna button that shirt” lot.
I had a feeling that was also why Aodhan hadn’t recognized me yet.
I’d gained weight, learned how to wear my hair curly and lost my boobs. Hell, not even my own father had noticed that I’d moved back. Why would I expect Aodhan to notice?
Hell, I’d come three times and stayed the third time. One would think that if I’d meant as much to Aodhan as I’d thought, maybe he would have noticed.
But nope.
He hadn’t.
Aodhan, in all his Irish glory, was the literal best thing that ever happened to me. And the worst.
“Listen, Yeti,” Aodhan’s deep, lush voice said. “If we keep doing this, we’re going to have to tell your brother. Our son. And that’s a whole ’nother can of worms that I don’t want to open.”
“There’s no way that my brother doesn’t already suspect,” Danyetta admitted quietly. “I know that you don’t want to keep this under wraps, but…it’s just for a short amount of time longer. Until…”
“Morrigan,” Theresa called. “You have a call on line one, and it’s not allowing me to transfer it! I’m sorry!”
I inwardly cursed my luck.
And I did have bad luck.
All the time.
I mean, who the hell got diagnosed with not one disease, but two? Who nearly got killed before they were even born? Whose father hated her not because of something she’d done, but something someone else had done? Whose boyfriend broke up with her because he wanted her to become a doctor, only for her to not even make it into the school?
And, when you try to come back to him, to tell him that it won’t work out, who finds out that the man that they love, and would always love, married another woman because he got her pregnant?
Me. That would be me.
Morrigan “Bad Luck” St. Pete.
Stiffening my spine and putting on my blinders—I could look past Aodhan. I’d been doing it for months since I’d been back—I headed out of my office as if I hadn’t just been spying on the two of them.
Heading directly to the office phone hanging on the wall, I said, “Heya.”
I didn’t know why I said “heya” when I answered the phone. I’d been doing it since I was a kid. It was a habit I just couldn’t break, and never would.
“Heya to you, too,” Folsom said. “Are we still on for lunch?”
I looked at my watch, the high-tech one that told me my heart rate at all times, and groaned. “I’m so sorry I’m running late. I was feeling a little off.”
I felt bad was literally the story of my life.
“If anyone is going to understand that, it’s me,” Folsom said. “I’ll just keep waiting here until you get here.”
“K, love you.” I hung up after she said, “I love you, too.”
I turned to Theresa and smiled. “I forgot I had lunch.”
Theresa nodded. “It’s Thursday. You do it every Thursday at one religiously. Don’t forget the till to drop off at the bank.”
I snapped my fingers, totally forgetting that was another thing I liked to do on Thursday. Only because I knew I wouldn’t have time on Friday.
That way, the entire weekend, I wouldn’t have a week’s worth of cash sitting in my store for someone to rob.
I’d learned that lesson the hard way, too.
The doorbell chimed, signaling the arrival, or exit of a customer.
I tried not to look to confirm, and instead asked Theresa to do something for me.
“Will you do me a solid and go get my keys and bag out of my office?” I asked.