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)
“Oh my god!” I run to her but stop short, remembering that I’m snotty and sneezy.
She’s having none of it. She sets the food on the counter and flings herself at me, hugging me tight. “Ahhh, I’m so sorry your parents are jerks.”
“How did you know?” I didn’t say anything about that in the texts we exchanged.
She rubs my arms through my fuzzy pink bathrobe with the avocados that are actually cats.
“If they’d taken care of you, you wouldn’t have had to SOS me.”
“You look great, by the way. Those bangs are on point.”
She beams. “I cut them myself.”
They’re shorter in front and blunt across her forehead, with two long stabbing pieces trailing down. They’re bright orange, but she’s made the rest of her hair jet black again. Her makeup is exceptionally on point, as always. The trench she’s wearing probably cost a fortune. It’s got a lace-up back. In her towering platforms with all the silver rings and buckles, she’s almost a foot taller than me. Her black dress is in the pin-up style, with little cherries on the neck part by the collar.
“I love it. All of it.”
“We got a new shipment in, and we get a killer discount.”
She doesn’t need the discount, but that’s the nice thing about Mika. She’s always had an allowance from her dad as well as a big trust fund put away for her education. He bought her a car, paid for Marlene’s house…all of it. Despite the fact that she’s never had to worry about money, she’s still good with it. She doesn’t treat herself that often, and she doesn’t have ten closets bursting full or a massive shoe collection. She wears what she buys, and she only buys what she truly loves.
When it comes to her hair and nails, though, she has always splurged.
“What the hell is that?” Mika asks.
I laugh weakly when she asks the exact same question about the big box in the living room.
I round the small island, pull out spoons, and then grab two bowls and two plates from the cupboard.
“You haven’t eaten yet?” I ask Mika.
“Nope. I’m starving, and I can’t wait to dig into that cake,” she replies.
“Soup too.”
“No, babe. That’s for you.”
“You can’t just eat ice cream for dinner.”
“I can and I will!” She laughs manically. “But seriously, what’s in the box?”
While I pour the soup that smells like freaking heaven into a bowl and get her a big slice of the ice cream cake, I tell her all about my parents’ visit and their weird plans for me to suddenly be a crafter and open up an online store.
“Whoa.” Mika sits down beside me at the small table on the far side of the kitchen. She loves the acrylic chairs. My mom picked them out. They were a strange choice, but when it comes to my mom, it’s always someone else making the decisions for her.
I’m pretty sure she just asks the salesperson at whatever store she goes to for what they think is best and buys the first thing they recommend. For clothes as well. She gets her groceries online, but that’s about the only time she exerts independent thought when it comes to shopping.
“That’s a bit much.” Mika slides the first bite of ice cream goodness into her mouth. “Mmmmm. Soooooo good! This cake isn’t a bit much. It’s amazing. Best cake I’ve ever had.”
“I can’t wait. This is the first day I’ve actually wanted to eat anything.”
“You and Dad both.”
“What?” Oh my god. Oh no. Did I make Rowleigh sick?
Right after the barn picking, I called Mika to debrief all the way back to Providence. I told her everything. Every-freaking-thing. She wasn’t mad. She was overjoyed. She thought it was great that her dad was calling off the wedding, but she encouraged me not to regret the kiss. I didn’t know where it was going, and she took that to mean I was leaving the option open should it arise in the future and feel right.
“He called me when he got to London. He said he had his head in a bucket the whole flight over. Good thing it was a private plane.”
My stomach hasn’t been the greatest, but I definitely got the head cold shit end of the stick. I feel a thousand times worse, aching down to my bones at the fact that Rowleigh got sick. He no doubt caught whatever I had before I came down with it. I know it was me because everyone at work was getting sick. While my boss fired me, she was sniffling away, and not out of any kind of sympathy.
“He updated me about the wedding. He was so wretched that Geneiva felt sorry for him. She wasn’t mad about him calling it off. Her dad is pissed, but whatever. He’s a jerkhole anyway. I don’t know about the hotels right now. I guess the business deal is still kind of up for debate.”