Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“How she doing?” he asked.
“I dunno. She’s the stiff-upper-lip sort,” I said.
“She seems to have some issues with you. Did something happen that you didn’t tell me about?”
“No. We’re just… oil and water is all.”
“She’s pretty.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, taking another sip. “You didn’t meet her at Massimo’s wedding?”
“I don’t think so.”
“She had green hair then.”
“You know, I vaguely remember someone with green hair, but I didn’t talk to her. So if she’s close enough with Mass to go to his wedding, why the hell did she call you?”
Yeah, that was the question, wasn’t it?
“She said it was because my name was first in her address book.”
“Yeah, sure,” Aurelio said, shaking his head.
“Maybe she just didn’t want to invite Mass into a dangerous mess when he’s got a woman and kids at home.”
“And, given her dislike of you, if you died…” Aurelio said, smirking.
“Yeah, exactly,” I agreed.
“Why’d you come?” he asked. “If you don’t get along?”
“She was in danger,” I said, shrugging. “I would have come if it was a stranger calling.”
To that, he nodded. We were in agreement there.
“I’ll look around to see if there’s a handyman or someone I can hire to board up those windows at her shop first thing. Then pull down the security gate. I doubt they’re done with that place. Might as well at least try to keep them from fucking any more of her shit up.”
“Thanks, man. I’m worried about her place.”
“Where does she live?”
“Fuck if I know,” I said, shaking my head.
Was it a house? An apartment? Did she have neighbors who would give a shit and call the cops if they saw something suspicious?
Was it already too late?
“Guess we can add that to the itinerary tomorrow too,” Aurelio said, rolling his neck. “I’m gonna run downstairs and get my suitcase.”
“I got a bag in my trunk, if you can grab that too,” I said, tossing him my keys.
There wasn’t much in it. Travel size toiletries, pajama pants, a spare suit. I would need to hit the store to get more than that.
Aurelio had time to pack.
I had left in an emergency.
I’d have to adjust.
“Yep,” he agreed. “I’ll be back.”
We took turns getting changed and making up the couches as best we could.
Aurelio dropped off pretty quickly, but I was still buzzed. And, judging from the noises coming from the bedroom, I wasn’t the only one.
Getting up, I made my way to her door, listening to make sure she wasn’t crying or something like that before I rapped lightly.
“Yeah?” she called.
Opening the door, I found her pacing in front of the windows, sans her jeans, leaving her in her tee and a pair of red panties with a little lace trim. And, fuck, they were showing off a tempting amount of ass. And those long legs of hers too.
“Can’t sleep?” I asked.
“Don’t sleep,” she corrected. “Much,” she added. “I would normally be cleaning my house or watering my plants right about now. Then catching three or four hours right before sun-up when I head to the shop to bake.”
“Every day it’s like that?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you want every day to be like that?”
Her chin angled up and her eyes slit.
That was the wrong thing to say, apparently.
“Because it’s my life?”
“You could hire help at the shop, so you have some time to yourself.”
“To do what?” she asked.
“Hobbies. See friends. Live your life.”
“I see my friends at work,” she said. “And my ‘hobbies’ are more along the lines of community service. Which I do find time for. Why do you care what my schedule is like?”
“I’m not trying to start a fight. But not sleeping isn’t great. Especially when things are… going to be dicey for a while.”
“Dicey,” she repeated, dropping her arms with a deep exhale. “Yeah, that’s a nice way to put it, I guess.”
“Can I ask you something without you biting my head off?”
“Probably not,” she said, but her lips twitched slightly. “But you could try.”
“Is it so important for you to stick this out here?” I asked. “Those developers have got to be sniffing around, throwing out some nice bids on your store. Why not take the money and run somewhere that you can start over without all this grief?”
“I was asking myself the same question while I paced,” she admitted. “I never gave a second thought to selling. You know… before. I believe in change, in trying to build up this community. But that was… that was when I was under my father’s protection.”
“Hey,” I said, seeing the sadness creep over her face. “There’s no saying that you won’t be under that again,” I reminded her.
“I know. But this has been a reality check. My father won’t live forever. He won’t work forever. And then what? Everyone takes out their years or decades of anger on me when I no longer have any protection?”