Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“I have to go to Europe and settle things there with Geneiva and her dad. If the deal falls through, it falls through, but now I see that an arranged marriage was an insane ask. We’re not things to be bartered with. I also want to make sure Geneiva is okay. She doesn’t deserve to have her heart broken or her family ripped apart because of me. I need to put it all on myself because it is on me. I should never have agreed in the first place. I’ll talk to Mika before I leave, and as soon as I get back, maybe we can have another one of those coffee dates. Or even dinner.”
“You could always drop by her shop once in a while and buy some awesome goth clothing.”
I’m trying to make him laugh, but he nods like he’s actually considering it. Holy shit, Rowleigh in a long black trench with eyeliner, tight leather pants, suspenders only, no shirt, and painted black nails…
Hooo boy.
There aren’t enough breezes in the world to fan away the heat that’s emanating from my body.
To be fair, Rowleigh in anything is such a hot image that no matter what, I’d be a burning red hot cherry over here.
“Tea,” I mutter, reaching past Rowleigh to knock on the door. “Tea is a great thing.”
“Tea and cookies are even better.”
“With good company,” I add.
“Yeah,” Rowleigh agrees.
My hand falls away, and I wait side by side with Rowleigh, the bear in my arms. Looks like he’s going for tea too. Death tea.
This day didn’t go as planned, just like the failed tacos and the rainstorm, but it was a good day. It was more than a good day. It was all the good, the sad, the scary, the painful, the brave, the hard, and then the soft.
“This can’t be the last time I see you because I have to pay back that loan,” I blurt as we hear footsteps coming from inside.
Rowleigh’s smile is small and secret, a little bit wry and a whole lot amused. “Yeah,” he says again, that one word meaning everything and anything. And the one thing it does mean?
This isn’t it. This isn’t the end.
Even if he’s canceling his wedding, and he knows the truth, we’re not nearly done with each other.
Chapter eleven
Bellatrix
“Gah, what the hell is that?”
From above her white surgical mask, Mom glowers at me. “Don’t say hell. It’s vulgar.”
This coming from an ER doctor who probably hears at least eighty seven point six two curses per minute. If not from the staff then the patients. No one likes hospitals. No one. Add injury to fear and dislike, and it’s a recipe for cursing.
What’s vulgar is that my mom is in her scrubs, and besides the mask, she’s wearing nitrile gloves.
“Why do you look like you’re scrubbed in for brain surgery?” I’m so nasally that I can barely understand myself.
My head is booming, my body is aching all over, and my throat feels like it has been lacerated by a spiny fish that swam into my mouth by mistake and left its spines behind, from my tongue to my belly. I’ve been sleeping like garbage for the past few nights. Everyone at work is sick, and they gave me this cold straight from the bowels of the fiery inferno itself—Mom’s right about hell, as there are many more satisfying words.
Anyway, they gave me the cold right before they fired me.
Without severance.
Three days ago, I was called into my boss’ office. She wanted to know why Rowleigh canceled his wedding contract. He was fine with not getting his deposit back for the work already done, but she told me that he was a big client. A. Big. Client. If he weren’t happy with us, it would no doubt spread, so it was better to cull the weak links before anyone else could think about canceling.
In shock, I asked if he had said he wasn’t happy with our services. My boss had to admit that no, he said he was very happy, but there was going to be no wedding, so no wedding planner was required. I’d demanded to know how that was my fault then or how there was any fault at all. None of my other clients had ever given me anything but glowing reviews over the past few years.
I didn’t get a straight answer until I was packing up my office right after that meeting and trying not to burst into tears that would humiliate me worse than my boss had. My coworker, Amanda, snuck into my office to tell me that she was sorry I was leaving. She’d said there were rumors about cutbacks, and the last ones in were the first ones out. Brittany and Charlene, women who were hired right after me, were also getting laid off.