Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Hey, can you hear me? I’m getting ready for dinner. I need to shave and stuff.”
“Yeah, it’s fine. How’s the house? How’s Harper?”
“Good. I’ll let you FaceTime with her after we eat. I bet she’ll want to show you how she set up her Barbies in her room.”
“Cool, yeah, have her call me.”
There’s a soft knock on my bedroom door, followed by, “Luke? Sorry to bother you. I cannot for the life of me get this jar open.”
I look down at my current state of undress. “Uh, just a second!”
“Who’s that?” Tate asks, loudly enough that Chloe must hear her through the closed bedroom door because she responds right away.
“NEVER MIND!” she shouts.
Oh hell. I rush over to whip open the door so this situation doesn’t turn from bad to worse, never mind that I’m still in my towel. Hopefully this exchange will be so brief Chloe won’t notice.
I open the door, take the jar of pesto out of her hand, and pop that lid open on the first try.
Chloe’s eyes widen like I’ve just displayed a superpower. Then her apologetic gaze catches mine.
“I heard a woman’s voice. I didn’t realize you were busy…”
“EW!” Tate groans.
Chloe looks to the phone on my bed with confusion.
I scratch the side of my jaw. There’s some scruff there that I was about to trim. There also might be a smile I’m having a hard time fighting back. “I’m just talking to my sister while I get ready for dinner.”
“Hi!” Tate shouts on cue.
“Oh.” Chloe shakes her head. Then she tacks on, “Hi! I’m Chloe.”
“I’m Tate.”
Chloe’s eyes drift from the phone, to me, down to my towel, then back to the phone. A red blush creeps steadily up her neck.
“Well, cool. See you around!”
“Bye!”
Chloe’s already halfway down the hall before I close the door and walk back to retrieve my phone. I recognize immediately that it’s in my best interest to take my sister off speakerphone. In fact, I’ve only just managed it before she starts taunting me like a middle school bully.
“Oooo, who’s Chloooo-ee?”
“My employee.”
“Oh.”
Her disappointment is swift. Silence fills the air.
Then, “Are you sure you’re not lying?”
“Why would I lie?”
“To get out of having to give me details about your love life.”
“Sadly for you, that’s not the case. No information to pass along. Chloe is my new employee out in the Hamptons. Nothing more.”
“Is she young?”
“Three years older than you.”
“Oh! Is she cute?”
I go back into the bathroom so I can start shaving. “Not answering that.”
“SHE’S CUTE!”
“Hanging up.”
My finger hovers over the red END button just as she screams desperately, “LUKE! TELL ME! IS SHE CUTE?!”
When I head to the kitchen a little while later, Chloe won’t look me in the eye. In fact, she won’t even turn fully in my direction.
“Good evening. Hi. There’s some chilled white wine open over there.” She points toward the kitchen island while she continues working hard at the stove, tending multiple pots and pans. “The sommelier at the grocery store recommended it to me. Yes, there was a sommelier at the grocery store, and not just a teenage employee hanging in the wine aisle, hoping to mooch a bottle off someone. This guy trained at a school in France, Union de la Sommellerie Française. I mean, I butchered that, but you get the idea. It’s good.”
“Chloe.”
“Hmm?” she asks while she aggressively stirs and stirs and stirs something on the stove. Whatever it is, surely it’s mixed by now.
“Sorry about that. It was inappropriate.”
She looks over her shoulder, all fake innocence. “What? Oh! That? No big deal at all. Cool to meet your sister. Glad to see you ditched the towel for some jeans. I, for one, think you could have pulled it off with the right shirt, but to each their own.”
I lose the battle with myself and laugh. I mean, I have to. Very rarely is a person the perfect combination of smart and silly.
Chloe whips around to face me fully, astonishment evident on her face.
“First laugh unlocked. That felt good.”
“I’m sure you’ll get another. You’re funny.”
That endearing red blush is back. “Thank you. I don’t get that often.”
“No?”
She shakes her head, and a few more pieces of brown hair fall out of the messy bun piled on the top of her head.
“I get a lot of ‘You’re so nice,’ which is annoying because like anyone can be nice. It takes no intelligence to be nice. But funny? That’s a real compliment.”
The oven timer beeps, and she dashes toward it.
“How can I help?” I ask, already stepping toward her.
“No! Absolutely not. This is my job. Go drink wine. There’s a cheeseboard too, just a little something to nibble on. I have a lot planned for you and Harper so I didn’t want to ruin your appetites beforehand.”
Harper comes barreling into the kitchen wearing mismatched pajamas, her hair still damp from her shower.