Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
As a project manager, a good majority of my job was following up with people. I spent the morning sending emails to make sure everyone was on track with their designated tasks. My position also consisted of several web meetings over the course of a day. Today I had two, which was pretty light. Both meetings happened to be in the morning, which was perfect since it would allow me to focus on the storage unit in the afternoon without having to be tied to the computer. And while I normally turned my camera on, I opted to keep it off today, having had no energy to do myself up. Plus, I had no desire to take off Evan’s hoodie. So there was that.
Around noon, I’d just gotten off my last team call when the door that led into the kitchen opened. My stomach dropped as Evan sauntered in, tossing his keys on the counter.
What the hell is he doing here?
I jumped out of my seat. “I wasn’t expecting you back. That’s the only reason I set up my work stuff on the kitchen table.”
“Clearly you weren’t expecting me.” He gave me a once-over, obviously noticing his hoodie.
Crap! I’d planned to take it off before he got home. “Sorry.” I played with the zipper. “It was cold in here.”
“Feel free to borrow my clothes, Chloe,” he said, an amused look on his face.
I tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. “What are you doing home anyway?”
“I forgot that Effie has dance lessons right after school. I didn’t pack her ballet shoes, so I figured I’d come home for lunch and grab them.”
“I see. What time do you pick her up from school?”
“Two thirty, but it’ll be around quarter to four today, actually, because there’s an arts event after school. I’ll have just enough time to get her to her four PM dance class.”
“You’re able to leave work every day early enough to pick her up from school?”
He nodded. “I make my own hours. But I’m always on call for emergencies to make up for that.”
“I see.” I glanced over at my stuff. “Well, I’ll pack up. I was about to close down for the day anyway. I have to leave.”
“Where are you headed?”
“The storage unit. I told myself I was going to tackle a little bit each day, figuring out what to toss and what to keep. It’s not easy parting with the only remaining evidence that your family ever existed.”
His face softened. “You need help?”
I looked down at my sherpa slippers. “I can’t ask you to do that…”
“That’s not an answer.”
This was not the time to refuse help. I’d had no idea how big of a job the cleanout was going to be. “Well, to be honest, I could use your truck to cart away some of the bigger items from time to time.”
“Yeah. No problem.” He nodded. “Why don’t I go with you today?”
“Okay… I mean, if you don’t mind.”
“It’s the least I could do for Judy.”
“Thank you.”
Evan cocked his head. “Have you eaten?”
“I kind of forgot. I’ve had plenty of coffee, though. Thanks for making it. It was really good.”
“Do you ever remember to eat?”
“Not since I got here.”
Evan rolled up his sleeves. “I’ll whip something up before we go.”
I knew better than to argue with him on that. Plus, it kind of felt nice to be taken care of. “Okay,” I said nonchalantly, as if it didn’t mean the world that he was making lunch for me. “While you do that, I’ll clean up my mess.”
I gathered my things and then returned to my room and put on some concealer plus a little eye makeup. My hair was still braided from last night. I had to laugh at myself as I looked in the mirror. The idea that Evan had braided my hair was still so damn funny to me. It had held up pretty well, considering I’d slept on it.
When I returned to the kitchen, Evan had put together a couple of bowls with rice, avocado, cut-up grape tomatoes, and some leftover grilled chicken. It looked like he’d drizzled balsamic dressing on top. My stomach growled. “Look at you with the fancy bowls, Evan. I’m impressed.”
“It’s called using up what we have in the fridge before it goes bad and making it look pretty.”
“Ah, so I’m your garbage disposal.” I sat down. “I’ll take it. This looks great.”
“Well, you seem like you’d be into fancy bowls.” He winked.
“I am, but I still appreciate a nice toasted Pop-Tart from time to time. I think of you whenever I have one.”
“And then you stab it with a fork?”
“Yes.” I winked. “Exactly.”
I took my first bite and smiled. It tasted as good as it looked. “How did Effie’s braid come out this morning?”
He nodded. “Pretty good. It wasn’t quite as tight as yours because we didn’t have all that much time. But she was happy with it. That’s what matters.” He licked the corner of his mouth. “I see yours is still hanging in there.”