Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
As a woman, it’s only natural to notice such things, and I have. He’s handsome. I noted it, and now I’m moving on.
“So, is he single?” Molly asks.
I blink in confusion thinking she’s talking about Locke, but that can’t be. All my reflections have been compliments of my intrusive thoughts.
And then it hits me. “You mean Patrick Rowe?”
“Yes, silly. Patrick Rowe. I mean, if you loved me, you could set me up with him, you know?”
I giggle because she’s joking.
At least, I’m ninety-five percent sure she’s joking because she’s very happy with her longtime boyfriend, Josh. “I am not setting you up with my boss,” I say primly. “Because if it didn’t work out, I’d lose my job, and there are limits to my patience with you.”
Molly snorts. “Maybe you should make a play for him.”
“Totally inappropriate,” I say dismissively, but he’s a man any woman would be over the moon to have. He’s powerful, intimidating in the ways that make you tingly, and underneath it all, he has this level of control that seems almost godlike.
“He’s impressive,” I finally say, picking my words carefully so Molly doesn’t continue with an obsession about the man. “Genuinely. Not in a look-at-what-I-built way, but in a manner that shows he really cares about this team, far beyond the investment. You can feel it.”
“Interesting,” Molly says, and I know exactly what she’s doing with that word.
“Stop.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to say several things.” I glance back at the chicken, satisfied with how it looks, and move to the stack of mail on the counter. Holding my phone between my ear and shoulder, I flip through it while Molly chatters on.
Bill.
Catalog I didn’t ask for.
A notice from the building management.
An envelope the size that would contain a card. My name and address are handwritten and there’s no return address.
However, I don’t need one as I know exactly who it’s from.
My stomach dips a little. “Son of a bitch.”
“What?” Molly asks, concern evident.
“Grant sent me a card,” I say dully. I mean… it’s his handwriting, all sloppy and at too sharp an angle. “Hold on a second.”
Molly waits for me silently as I open it.
As expected, inside is a greeting card. It features a field of daisies at sunset, a “no occasion” type card, the inside completely blank except for his handwriting filling the right side.
Livvy,
I know you don’t want to hear from me but I’m asking you to read this anyway. I’ve done a lot of thinking about what happened between us, and I know I handled things badly. I handled a lot of things badly, and I’m not making excuses for that. I just miss you so much. I think if you gave me the chance to show you how much I’ve changed, you wouldn’t regret it. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I let that go because I was stupid. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life knowing I didn’t try everything I could to get you back. Please… just one conversation. That’s all I’m asking.
Grant
“Listen to this,” I say, and then read it out loud to Molly.
The silence on her end lasts exactly two seconds. “Absolutely not,” she hisses. “He doesn’t get a second chance.”
“I know,” I readily agree.
“I know you know,” she says on a gust of frustrated air. “It’s just… he put his hands on you.” Her voice has shifted to the strict tone she uses as an ER nurse, the one that doesn’t raise in volume but somehow gets more commanding. “He grabbed you hard enough to leave marks, and when you tried to walk away, he blocked the door. He went physical and there’s no going back to that.”
“I know, Molls,” I say gently. She knows I’d never give him a second chance, but she’s worried. She knows how scared I was after that incident so she’s in mama bear mode. “You know me… I don’t put up with shit like that.”
“I know,” she huffs. “I just… I don’t trust that asshole. Why is he even writing you? He’s clearly not letting you go.”
“I’ll ignore him and he’ll eventually move on,” I reply confidently. “Besides… he’s in LA and I am not.”
It’s the nine hundred miles separating us that have me feeling confident. Breaking up with Grant wasn’t hard to do. He cheated on me and that’s a line that can’t be uncrossed. But when I confronted him on it, he showed me a side that I didn’t know he possessed. He grabbed me and the look on his face was honestly terrifying. His grip was like iron and I felt my muscles bruising. I was able to tear free, intent on making a run for it, but he blocked me and I could tell… he wouldn’t have let me leave.