Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I smile. “Real life.”
I think back to all the emotions of the time. I had to make a choice, and I chose Star Falls. I don’t think I realized back then what I was sacrificing.
“That’s all you’re giving me?”
“It’s a long story,” I say.
Fisher must see my expression because he doesn’t press me.
“One for another time,” I assure him.
“But you still paint?” he asks.
“When I get the chance,” I say.
Truthfully, I do it more now than I have for a while. Riley’s older and more independent. And she likes coming to the studio with me. Painting with Riley is… different, but I still like it. Sharing that time with my daughter is so important. It feels sacred or something.
“So, what did you say you do for work?”
“I work in a school. I’m a teaching assistant.”
“Wow.” He slides his palm over his jaw. “I don’t know how you have the patience.”
I laugh. “It’s a question of lowering your expectations.”
He narrows his eyes, like he’s taking in something profound. “Yeah. I like that way of thinking about it. It’s a good way of going through life, too,” he says.
“What? Having low expectations?” I ask.
“Yeah, that way, you’re not disappointed.”
Something niggles in me at his observation. “I’m not so sure that’s true,” I say. “I mean, if you expect a six-year-old to behave like an adult, then you’re going to spend your life frustrated and annoyed. But in life? You gotta have expectations or… I find people live up or down to your expectations, whatever they may be.”
Fisher holds my gaze, and he’s about to speak when Byron interrupts.
“Hold that thought,” Fisher says.
He takes a shot, and I swear he misses on purpose. He barely looks at the table. I’m not complaining because that means he comes back to me quickly.
“Is that true in your experience?” he asks.
“What?” I ask.
“That if you expect people to be one way, they generally are.”
I take in a breath. I’ve not really thought about it before. “Yeah. I think so.”
“And if you expect nothing of someone, they’ll give you nothing?”
I shrug. This conversation has taken a turn I wasn’t expecting. I hadn’t planned to give him philosophical insight, just an understanding that, in my experience, people tend to turn out to be what you expect.
“I think I assume people are going to be assholes,” he says.
I tilt my head and look at him. He seems so carefree on first glance, but maybe that’s not true if you dig a bit deeper.
“I’m not sure,” I say.
“That people are assholes?” he asks.
“That you assume everyone’s going to be an asshole.”
His eyes widen in surprise, and then he regains his friendly expression and grins at me. “You’re an interesting woman, Juniper.”
“And it’s my shot.”
I manage to sink a couple of balls, and then when I miss, my pulse starts to race—because it means I get to hang out some more with Fisher.
“Do you go back to the UK a lot?” I ask.
“Not really. Home is New York, but I travel for work. What about you? You lived in Star Falls your entire life?”
“Sure have. Never even traveled out of state.”
He nods. “Right. That’s…”
“A little pathetic?” I suggest and laugh. “I agree. But, you know, life happens. And you have to pick. We get one life, and we can’t be the person who sees the world and the person who knows everybody in Star Falls to their bones.”
Fisher smiles, his eyes fixed on me, like he’s trying to figure me out. “I don’t think many people think about life like that. Like it’s a series of choices that will lead them to have one kind of life or another.”
“Really?” I ask. “I’m not saying you plan it out, but there are crossroads in anyone’s life and moments where you know whatever decision you take, your life will end up in two different places.”
“God, Juniper,” he says and groans, and I’m not sure if I’m boring him or something.
“What?” I ask. “Am I talking too much?”
He shakes his head. “I think I could talk to you all night. You and your take on life is… bewitching.”
I scrunch up my nose. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
“It very definitely is.”
His gaze is so intense, I can almost feel it pressing into me, surrounding me, daring me to say more.
I reach over to him, because I can’t not touch him any longer, and I rest my hand on his muscular arm for a beat, then two, then I force myself to pull away. “Thank you,” I say. “I’ll take any compliments you’re giving out.”
FOUR
Fisher
Breakfast at the Colorado Club is a banquet fit for a king. And certainly, the reigning queen of pop.
Vivian slides into the booth opposite me. “Never bring me here again.”
My stomach churns. Did I make a mistake, bringing her to Colorado? It’s certainly different from any place I’ve ever recorded, and I’ve been to a lot of different studios. New York, Tokyo, London, LA—even Sheffield, Alabama. And the tech is state of the art. But that’s not always what it’s about.