Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
She lifts her shoulder. “Peyton and Talisa have the babies covered. Plus, Mom.” She stares out the kitchen window.
“You still work at the studio?”
She nods. “Yeah, but it’s only one day a week and usually on Saturday when the recording room is booked.”
“You know you don’t have to work, right?” I refill my mug. “Your mom and I work, so you can be a teen, focus on school.”
“I know, but I don’t want to be a nepo baby.”
I say nothing. We’ve had this conversation a few times and there isn’t much I can do about how she feels or how people see her. “Working at the bar won’t change that.”
“No, but if I’m waiting tables, it puts money in my pocket that you didn’t hand me.”
She has a point. “I’ll talk to your mom and see what she thinks.”
Paige kisses my cheek again. “I’m glad you’re home, Daddy. Are you coming to Mack’s game?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
I pour the rest of my coffee out and follow Paige to the door. Her jet-black Audi Q5, which was a Christmas present, sits behind my beat-up truck. I chuckle and she looks at me. I motion toward the car. “You don’t want to look like a nepo baby but drive a brand-new car.”
Paige huffs. “I wanted a red bug so I could name her lady and put black dots and eyelashes on her, but no, Mom said I had to have something safe.”
She’s not wrong. Josie insisted on the Audi. I wanted Paige to have a truck, because I know how safe it would be in all weathers. But I also know what her mother and I were doing in my truck at Paige’s age, so it would have to have bucket seats and an exposed chassis, because again, teenage hormones.
“Have a good day at school, sweetheart.”
“You too,” she says as she goes to her car.
I climb into my truck and watch her through my rearview. She buckles, checks her mirrors, and then backs up into the loop and turns around. I follow behind her and honk when she turns and I go straight, through downtown until I get to the building where FMG Records is.
The parking lot is full. This brings a smile to my face, knowing businesses have filled the revitalized spaces. At last check, aside from my studio, there’s a salon, a dentist office, a tattoo artist, photography studio, and Ben’s marketing company. He keeps an office here and works remote when needed. Josie and I own the building but have hired a company to fill the spaces. We keep the rent low to give small businesses a chance at thriving.
I park in the spot reserved for me. According to my wife and daughter, this makes me a pompous ass. According to Elle, this makes me smart. She has a reserved spot as well. Each space has at least two spots available in the parking lot, plus there is on-street parking.
Inside, I climb the stairs to the second floor and am surprised to find the door of FMG Records unlocked. “Hello?” I say as I twist the knob. Cooing fills the space. I walk to the back and find Elle sitting at her desk, with her headset on, and her twins sitting in their playpen. A pang of hurt fills me as I crouch down to visit Jett and Sonny because I haven’t seen my grandbabies yet. I should’ve gone over this morning, but the last thing I want to do is disturb Noah and Peyton.
“Hi, boys,” I say as I grip the side of the playpen. I appreciate Elle and Ben for putting a J or S on their shirts. I know it’s for people like me, who aren’t around much. “Make sure you tell your gramps you saw Uncle Liam and tell him how much you love seeing me more than him. He’s so stinky isn’t he.”
The boys try to hand me their slobbery toys.
Elle hangs up and stands. I go to her and give her a hug. “It’s good to see you. How are you? Things?”
“I’m good,” I tell her. “Mira’s sending over some producer to talk to me about a new venture.”
“Fun, what is it?”
I shake my head. “Not a clue. But hey, we got offered a legacy tour.”
Elle tries to hide the fact that she’s about to laugh. “Rock on.”
Her phone starts to ring again. “Just close the door if the boys get loud.”
“For sure.” I go back to the twins and play with them for a minute. They have dark hair, with chubby cheeks and look like Mason. There’s a little bit of Katelyn in there, but the boys are mostly the grandfather they’ll grow up hearing about but never knowing. I suppose they look like their parents a bit as well, but when I look at the boys, I see Mason.