Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
After I showered and changed, I stood on the balcony for an embarrassing fifteen minutes, huddling in my jacket as I waited for him to hop over my railing, sit too close for comfort and explain what the hell that was about.
He never came out, but I did find a picture of Rue and her giant tower of pancakes in my email.
For the princess.
I spent another sleepless night wondering what it all meant, and how I could miss a habit I’d barely started with someone I barely knew. Why hadn’t he joined me on the balcony?
Now I’ve walked into the middle of a family feud. Coming home late in the afternoon—following an office plumbing emergency and a phone meeting with my case managers that I wasn’t supposed to join but couldn’t concentrate on anyway—and wondering if Elliot’s disappearance last night meant we wouldn’t be having that beer after all.
“I thought I should finally take a look at this place, since you want my daughter and grandchild to spend the night here alone. And I’m glad I did. EJ, how can you think it’s a good idea to raise a child here, even temporarily? With some cross-dresser guarding the door and smut on the walls?”
This is what I hear before I even step into the hallway. Neither one of them look up when the elevator arrives, too focused on their conversation. I don’t want to invade Elliot’s privacy, but I can’t help glaring at the back of the petite woman’s head. I recognize that voice.
Did Elliot’s mom call Mr. Gordon a cross-dresser because of his glasses?
“There is nothing wrong with this building or anyone in it,” he says testily. “It’s safe and secure, and Rue loves being this close to the water. She loves it so much, she wanted to share it with her aunt and cousin. They have no problem staying the night, and I am not about to let you ruin their plans by throwing a fit about it.”
Direct hit.
“A fit?” His mother sounds as if she’s been struck. Even her short, elegant bob is trembling. “I can throw a fit, son. But why don’t we talk about what you’re doing to ruin things instead? You should be thanking your stars that they’re willing to give you a second chance to play for a team that could make it all the way to the World Series. You remember, that thing you and your father were always dreaming of? You could be there now if you hadn’t left, and I think they know it. You can bet your big bank account that they won’t be so understanding if you mess things up next season.”
Can I hit her now?
Elliot manages to restrain himself, so I follow his lead. “Oddly enough, they understood that finding out I had a child who needed me was something that might require my full attention. What I don’t get is why you don’t.”
Her huff is disbelieving. Practiced. “You’ve never appreciated what your father and I did for you. Not once. You’ve turned down endorsements, you’ve refused every suggestion to increase your media presence. Joan was a star before she broke her ankle and allowed some grifter to knock her up. What you have is that fastball and your consistency as a player. If you were smart, you could have taken the option to let Rue—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” There was an undercurrent in Elliot’s voice that physically sends his mother back a step.
My feet are in quicksand. I can’t move. If I did, I might need to go over there and tell that woman off. How could someone like that have raised someone like Elliot?
“She’s my daughter.” His tone is subdued, but absolute. “I already missed the first few years of her life, and that’s time I’ll never be able to get back.”
She lays a tentative hand on his arm. “Sweetheart, I understand.”
“No. You don’t. You don’t understand why family is important to me. Why my child is more important to me than anything else. But if you ever suggest that someone else should have her, or that choosing to take care of her was a mistake? I’m done. We’re done.”
She seems to get the picture, adjusting her purse on her arm and straightening her shoulders. “I’ll leave. You’re upset now, and you need some time to cool down. When you do, you’ll remember how much I’ve done to prove I love my children, and you’ll apologize.”
“One more thing.” He leans down until he can look up into her eyes. “You don’t schedule daily lessons for anything—swimming, running, horseback riding, miniature golf—without running it by me. Rue isn’t your latest project. She’s your granddaughter.”
After a short staring contest, she starts to turn and I instantly move toward my door, giving them my back. Since I can’t really turn invisible and this hallway isn’t that big, I know they can’t miss me, but I’d rather they didn’t see how strongly their conversation affected me.