Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Oh, yeah! I didn’t think of that.” She sounds almost happy, or at least relieved. I hate how glad I am to hear it. I hate her for making me feel this way. It was bad enough, feeling compelled to help her last night. This is why I didn’t want anything to do with her. One warm feeling leads to another, then another, until I can’t remember why I wanted to stay away from her in the first place.
But this is why. The way something about her makes me want to protect her.
“Is there anything I can do to help you cook? I’m actually pretty good,” she offers.
“Can you make toast?” Glancing over my shoulder, I see the way she rolls her eyes
“Yes, I can toast bread. Jesus.” But she’s chuckling as she hops down from her stool and opens the bag of bread sitting on the counter. The toaster is close to where I stand at the stove, melting butter in the pan, and we exchange a brief grin when our eyes meet. It’s nice, maybe too nice. So much of the tension that’s been between us for so long has melted, or at least thawed. It’s easier to smile as I crack eggs into a bowl.
“What is all this?”
Shit. I didn’t expect Mom and Dad so early. Maya makes a choking sound, but I turn to them, spatula in hand. “Mom, Dad, this is Maya.”
“Yes, I know. Maya.” Dad nods. Not exactly rude, but not exactly warm, either. Probably because he’s on the spot right now, and he hates when I put him there.
“Maya needs a place to stay right now. She… she’s my girlfriend,” I announce, and she makes that choking sound again. It would be nice if she could just play along. “So I offered to let her stay here with us for a while.”
Mom clears her throat, offering a smile which Maya returns. “Well, we’ll be glad to have you,” she assures her, though the look she slides my way tells me I have some explaining to do. I would expect nothing less, but at least she’s being supportive. I hear the soft sigh Maya releases and know some of her fears are dissipating.
“Things aren’t going well at home with your father?” Dad asks, because of course he is more blunt, to the point. Something I inherited from him.
Looking Maya’s way, I catch her lifting her chin and rolling her shoulders back before shaking her head. “No. They’re not. Things are very bad right now, sir.”
His jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing, but soon he nods firmly. “Then I’d rather you be here. I’ve never trusted your father.”
Now it’s my turn to be surprised, my eyes opening wide, but Dad shakes his head slightly before I can ask what that means.
“Thank you both. That’s so kind of you.” There’s emotion in Maya’s voice, which is now shaky and thick. “This is so generous.”
“Generous?” Mom laughs lightly, shaking her head as she goes to the coffee maker. “Sweetie, I walked into this kitchen to find my son cooking. If this is the effect you have on him, you are more than welcome here.”
“Okay, okay,” I grumble, but it’s nice to hear them laugh together. Almost too nice. I finish scrambling the eggs and serve them up while Maya plops toast on our plates. There is something comfortable about sitting down and chatting with Mom and Dad, making small talk, discussing logistics and what not.
Though every once in a while, I look Dad’s way and find he’s not smiling. Is he going to give me shit? When I meet his gaze, he shakes his head slightly—obviously, there’s something he wants to discuss in private.
When we’re finished eating, Maya goes back upstairs to take a shower before heading over to grab some clothes from Wren. Dad takes the opportunity to pull me into his study, where the mild expression he’s been wearing drops from his face. “Listen…” I begin, but he shakes his head before I can get another word out.
“Listen to what I have to tell you,” he warns, sitting on the corner of his desk. “There’s something you need to know about Maya’s father.”
“I already know he’s a real bastard,” I grunt, folding my arms.
“I won’t argue with you on that,” he replies with a scowl. “I need you to be extra careful. It is for the best Maya stays here—really, no matter how concerned I seem about everything else,” he assures me.
“Thank you for that.”
“But that son of a bitch has scammed half the town out of a lot of money.”
I wasn’t expecting that. My mouth drops open while he nods slowly. “What?”
“Paul Wilder is currently in the process of building a case against him with the district attorney.” He glances toward the door like he wants to make sure nobody’s listening before he continues. “He has made enemies of way too many people. From what I understand, he has essentially been running a Ponzi scheme, but everything’s falling apart. That sort of thing is only good for so long—eventually, investors want answers. Generally around the time when the incredible returns they were boasting about go dry,” he adds. “A scheme like that can’t last—there are only so many new people to pull in, so the person running the scheme can take the initial investment as the money they’re using to make it look like everything’s above board. Nothing lasts forever.”