Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
What a bitch.
I think the words and Grace wears them on her face.
“Naples is beautiful,” Stetson says to my complete and utter surprise. “I’ve been quite a few times for work. The rooftops remind me of a mosaic of shiny terracotta.”
Huh.
I’ve never heard anyone… and I mean anyone describe the rooftops in Naples, Florida in quite that way. Shiny terracotta? What in the bird’s eye view is he talking about?
“Rooftops?” Devon smiles. “Given your propensity to face off with polar bears I’m assuming you were hang gliding over the city?”
Stetson’s laugh is smooth, enticing, his eyes seem to hold a secret while he bites down on his lower lip.
“Not quite that,” he shakes his head and then says something even stranger. “But the waterways are very reminiscent of Venice, Italy.“If you say so,” Ellie rolls her eyes.
Stetson captures my gaze with those crazy blue eyes of his.
“I do.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“Your parents named you Charlie Horse?” The most beautiful man in the world asks me this in a surprised, yet incredibly amused tone. Dick.
I can’t.
Like… come on, I’ve heard this joke a million times in my life. Like four million.
If we want to be technical it’s Charlie Lyn Horseman.
That’s my name.
My grandma was Lyn, so I’m Lyn. Horseman is just our last name. Well, my dad’s last name...
Stop it.
My parents named me Charlie Horse.
The entire party, Stetson and Jayson included are back on Devon’s yacht for dinner. Devon and Grace insisted they join us. They promised they would after a shower and change. Apparently, it’s easy because all the mega yachts are docked in the same fjord. Who knew?
“It’s kismet!” Grace exclaimed upon hearing this piece of information.
“I can’t with you,” I shook my head in disbelief. “Can’t you try and be less embarrassing?”
“No,” she returned and pointed at me, like she was figuring me out. “We’re in a code red kind of situation. Like we need a Christmas miracle kind of red situation.”
Huh. Christmas miracle?
“That’s a bit sad, but I thank you for your honest observation and assessment,” I let out a breath.
“I’m a realist.” Was her response.
Who knew thirty-three was pushing it? But apparently, it is, and apparently that’s me. Perfect. I’m the code red situation that needs to be remedied. And poor Stetson’s the target. And poor me is about to be let down. Again.
“So now you know where I’m coming from—you do you and I’ll do me,” she told me with a smile before she gave my cheek a friendly pat.
Alright. I’ll do me.
I decide to dress up for dinner.
Well, I decide to dress up more than usual, which usually consists of some sort of athleisure—or at least as much as I can given the circumstance—and more naked than I’d prefer but I’m trying to prove a point—that I’m not hopeless. And I can lean into my femineity any time I want. Which just so happens to be this very moment.
All I have is a fitted off the shoulder cashmere black top, so I pair it with black jeans that fight tight in a damn I’m feeling myself sort of way and not in a get me out of these things way. I count it as a complete win. I glance at myself in the mirror and do a small turn. I look good. I leave my hair down straight past my shoulders, down my waist, and put on light make-up. To finish everything off, I add a pair of the ship slippers with the yacht’s name on them—Elysian.
This is real. Happening in fact.
I’m on a yacht in an arctic fjord close to the North Pole named, Elysian. And each guest receives their own slippers, hat and sweatshirt with the yacht’s name and crest.
Facts on God.
Not how I imagined my holidays going.
“Charlie Horse?” Stetson says again pulling me back to the slightly embarrassing moment at hand.
“They were hippies,” I say nonchalantly—they weren’t. Nor were they immigrants with no real strong sense of the language.
They were just a good old multi-generational American family who thought it was humorous. At least I’ll be remembered for something. Yay. I don’t know why I was the only one to be recipient of such a fun name.
My younger brother’s, Ethan. Nice, normal, makes sense even. I’ll never come to terms with it. Lots of therapy taught me that. And I’ll also never come to terms with how their marriage ruined me in so many ways for so long. I made bad decisions in the love department and a lot of what and why I did what I did was from the fucked up, insane, cold, horrible example of love I saw. Until it exploded before my eyes into just hate. Pure hate. I know my parent’s example is not wholly to blame… but maybe a little bit more than half.
You’re better now, Charlie… I tell myself. Except for ass nut’s horrible intrusion, you were doing good. But that’s a whole other story.