Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Stop, I love you. It’s fine. I know you have to work.”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “I’m not sure why I was in such a hurry to grow up. Adulting is lame, and I absolutely do not recommend it.”
“Me neither.” I laugh as the bathroom door opens, and Dayton steps out into the hall, adjusting his suit jacket. An attractive grin curves his lips when he finds me waiting for him.
“Have you seen Matthew yet?” Molly asks, and my smile slides away.
“No.” I force my eyes off the man walking toward me. “I just got here. I haven’t even seen my parents yet.”
“Well, let me know how that goes, and call if you need me.”
“I will, and good luck.”
“You too.” She hangs up after saying goodbye, and I turn for the living room, tucking my phone back into my clutch.
“Everything okay?”
“Yep, my friend just called to let me know she’s not going to be able to make it tonight.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I step into the living room and find Jacob lying with his head on the arm of the couch and an entire bottle of champagne in one hand, the TV remote in the other.
“Hey, sis.”
“Are you hiding in here from Mom and Dad?”
“Yep.” He lifts the bottle up and out toward me. “And you might want to hang with me. I just saw Matthew, and he’s here with someone.” His gaze slides to Dayton. “Or maybe not, since it looks like you brought someone of your own.”
“Dayton, this is my brother Jacob. Jacob, this is Dayton. He works for the district attorney. We just met a few minutes ago.”
“You move fast, sis.” He smiles, jerking up his chin in a silent hello to the man next to me.
“You’re an idiot.” I roll my eyes at him and head toward the door.
“Let me know if you want me to kick Matthew’s ass,” he calls out as the TV turns on.
Ignoring him, I open the door and come face-to-face with my mom, who looks wide-eyed and panicked.
“There you are.” She grabs my hands in hers and starts shoving me back into the room, causing me to bump into Dayton, who is right behind me. “I heard you arrived and have been looking everywhere for you.”
“Sorry, I had to use the restroom.”
“It’s fine. That’s fine. Why don’t you just stay in here with me for a while, and we can—”
“Mom,” I cut her off while squeezing her hands. “I already know that Matthew is here with someone. It’s okay.”
“Oh, honey, you saw them together?” Her face falls, and she wraps her arms around me. “I’m so sorry. If I had known he’d show up tonight with a date, I wouldn’t have invited him.”
“We’re divorced. You knew this was bound to happen at some point.” I sigh, forcing her to let me go. It’s difficult with the way she’s latched onto me.
“How can you be okay with this? You just signed your divorce papers.”
“We’ve been separated for months,” I remind her gently.
“He said you’re the love of his life and told his mom he wants you back!” she cries, wrenching up the drama.
Even if that last part were true, it’s never happening.
“Mom, take a breath,” I urge, then wait until she does. “Now, listen to me. It’s okay. I’m okay. I don’t care that he’s here with someone.” I shake my head. “Actually, I’m glad he has a date.”
“Glad?” she gasps. “How can you say that? You two were meant to be, Francisca. You were born to be with him.”
Oh my God, here we go.
“Mom, he and I are never getting back together.”
“Like ever!” Jacob sings out from the couch, and I close my eyes, noticing only then that Dayton is still right behind me, with his hand at the small of my back. Something else I notice is his hand spans almost the entire width of my waist. It’s so big.
“Jacob Austin Dawson, what are you doing in here? And why do you have a whole bottle of champagne?” Mom snaps, losing interest in me.
Thank God.
Grabbing Dayton’s hand, I quickly begin dragging him with me out through the still-open door.
“Francisca!” Mom calls out, and I start walking faster.
“I’m going to get something to eat,” I call over my shoulder, still dragging Dayton with me.
“Francisca!” she yells, her heels clicking on the marble floor.
“We’ll talk in a bit, Mom.” I hurry down the hall with my new friend, then drag him around a corner, then another, striding toward the kitchen. The moment we step through the swinging door, the men and women my mom hired to work the event all stop what they are doing and silently stare at us.
“Sorry, please pretend like we’re not even here,” I tell them, letting go of Dayton’s hand as I walk across the kitchen to the pantry.
After flipping on the light, I grab the stool my mom keeps tucked away under one of the bottom shelves and carry it to the back corner of the pantry. Opening it up, I use it to reach up to the top shelf and grab the bottle of tequila my dad brought back from his last vacation in Mexico. Unscrewing the cap of the beautiful white and blue antique-looking bottle, I plop down on the stool and take a drink of the sharp alcohol, gagging at the taste. Tequila is definitely not the same without lime and salt.