Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Most mornings, Bane had already left the house when I made it to the kitchen. Than was there though, and we talked while we ate, then left to go to the distillery. I answered the phones, went through the mail, and organized the files that were on the desk into the drawers.
Around one, Than would take me back to the house. We hadn’t gone back to the stables. I did want to see the horses again, but I didn’t want to overhear any sexual activities that Bane might be having.
The past two afternoons, I had been the only one at the house, so I’d taken advantage of the pool, swimming and then soaking up the warm sun. The exercise I knew was good for the baby and my body. Without my bike, I wasn’t getting cardio daily, like I once had.
Evenings were spent with whichever of the guys was home, eating dinner on the sofa in the great room. I normally excused myself early and went up to my room.
I’d almost finished reading the thick prenatal book Dr. Stella had given me. Among all my things, I only owned two other books. I had read them both already, but I was going to reread each one. It gave me something to do before going to bed. The guys were all nice to me, and no one made me feel as if I was unwanted, but I could tell they also weren’t sure what to say and do around me. Coming up here after dinner made me feel like I was giving them their space back.
Today was Saturday, and I already knew Than wasn’t going to the distillery. He’d said they would all probably be gone when I got up, but that Wilma would have breakfast waiting for me. I had decided last night that I’d take a book out to the pool. Deciding on which book was my evening activity. In the end, I’d chosen to take The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks. I had found the copy I owned at a thrift store for fifty cents two years ago. It had kept me up all night the first time I read it.
When I walked into the kitchen, a tall woman with broad shoulders, short brown hair that stopped just below her ears, and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on her long, narrow nose stood behind the counter, chopping vegetables. She lifted her chin, and her dark eyes met mine. Her piercing gaze caused me to pause.
“Hello, Halo,” she said with a wry quirk of her mouth. She set her knife down, then walked over to open the oven and took out a covered plate. “Please have a seat. I just need to add the berries to your protein waffles. Would you prefer orange juice or milk?”
I’d already assumed this was the elusive Wilma who kept the place spotless and prepared meals, yet was never seen.
“Milk, thank you, but I can get it,” I replied.
She set the plate down on the counter. “I am sure you can, but there is no need with me in here. Have a seat.” The no-nonsense way she spoke had me doing exactly what I had been told.
I looked at the stools where I normally sat at the bar, but I wasn’t sure she would want me that close to where she was working. I shifted my gaze to the large, empty table that I’d never seen used, then decided to take a spot where I always did. Pulling out a stool, I sat down.
“Have your meals been to your liking?” she asked me as she placed sliced strawberries around the plate.
“Yes, they’ve been wonderful. Thank you,” I assured her.
She picked up blueberries, then began to decorate the plate with those next. “Very good. I’ve followed the guidelines that your doctor gave to Mrs. Cash for your meals. For the less than appetizing options, I have done my best to adjust them so they are more enjoyable.”
I hadn’t known Grissele had gotten a diet plan from Dr. Stella. I shouldn’t be surprised though. Grissele was thorough.
She sprinkled walnuts over the top, then added a tablespoon of peanut butter before taking the plate and handing it to me. “There is no healthy option for a syrup. It could spike your blood sugar, but I used bananas in the batter and some monk fruit to sweeten the waffle itself.”
Having no idea what monk fruit was, I smiled brightly as I stared down at my meal. “This looks amazing.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but hopefully, my adjustments make it appetizing,” she replied dryly.
I picked up the fork and knife she’d given me and began to cut off a piece. Wilma didn’t make small talk as she went about finishing her task of cutting vegetables. I ate in silence, enjoying my meal, wondering if perhaps I should be the one to make conversation.