Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
He sits down and pulls me onto his lap. “Prospectives schools for Noah.”
I fan through the collection. “These are all private and very exclusive.”
He wraps an arm around my waist and puts his hand on my leg. “You say that as if those are bad things.”
My skin catches fire where his fingers are splayed over the outside of my thigh. “I’m just worried that their methodology may not be right for Noah.”
Rubbing a thumb over my leg, he studies me. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
I went to one of those schools, and I know the price I paid. “I don’t want to push him into a mold that may squash his creativity and ignore his unique strengths and weaknesses in lieu of some elitist group of academics’ idea of success and conformity. I just want him to be happy.”
He considers that for a moment. “I went to one of those schools for boys, and I was happy.” His lips quirk. “More or less.”
“I wasn’t.”
“All right,” he says slowly. “You know Noah better than anyone. I’ll let you decide.”
At that unexpected declaration, a warm, fuzzy feeling spreads through me. He’s showing me that he trusts me, that, despite my selective amnesia, he trusts me to know my child. He trusts me enough to leave one of the biggest decisions we can make about our son’s future in my hands.
Of course I’m not going to make the decision on my own. I want to visit the schools and speak to the teachers, and I want Dante to be present. His opinion is important to me. But he has no idea how much his faith in me means. Like the congenial dinner of last night, I didn’t know how much I needed that vote of confidence.
I tilt my face up to hold his gaze. “You’ll really let me choose?”
He kisses me, his lips warm and soft and tasting like coffee. “That’s what I said.”
I only know one way of expressing my gratitude. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I whisper, “I love you.”
His expression becomes strained. Maybe he’s not comfortable with oversharing in front of Noah. I know how hard it can be for some men to say those words. My mother never heard them from my father. Neither did I.
Respecting Dante’s boundaries, I back off. “I already did some research of my own. How about we each select our top choices and schedule visits?”
“Set it up.” He rubs his hand down my thigh and squeezes my knee in an act that’s both reassuring and intimate. “I’ll be there.”
When Dante leaves for the office, I clean the kitchen while Noah fashions an airplane from play dough at the counter.
I call Jazz while he plays soccer with Dante’s men outside. We make a lunch date for the following week when she can take a break from rehearsing. She’s taken up singing lessons with her private tutor again, wanting to make sure she gives the audition her best shot.
A couple of hours before lunch, an idea comes to me. I want to thank Dante for his generosity, not only for showing me that he trusts me but also for being so good to us. He’s a model daddy and husband.
Taking special care with my appearance, I dress in an ice-blue dress and high heels. Noah insists on also changing when I tell him about my plan. He decides to wear his chinos and a button-down shirt with new sneakers that he tells me Dante bought for him.
When we’re ready, I tell Emily that Noah and I will be out for lunch.
Ulysses is on door duty. After what happened, Dante doesn’t want me to drive alone or to go anywhere without bodyguards, so I ask Ulysses if he’ll take us to town. Dante has never said so explicitly, but I’m sure the guards report our movements to him. It’s a measure he’d take for our safety.
Ulysses is surprised when I ask him to drive us to Dante’s office. He escorts us inside the building and into the elevator. If I’ve been here before, I don’t remember it.
An attractive woman with glossy, black hair and a wide smile on her red lips greets us when we exit on Dante’s floor.
She takes both my hands in hers. “I’m Penelope. You can call me Penny.”
I offer her a hesitant smile. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
“Briefly.” She waves a hand. “My appearance wasn’t that memorable.”
“You’re just trying to make me feel better. I take it Dante enlightened you?”
“He did.” She scrutinizes me. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” I smile. “Making progress, I hope.”
“Just take it day by day and be easy on yourself.” She turns to Noah. “And here’s the young man I was dying to meet.”
Noah stands up straighter and holds out a hand.
Grinning, she shakes his hand. “Oh, my. You do take after your father.”