Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 22709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
So I pressed on, “I’ve often wondered why they had me in the first place. When I was younger, I always felt like a mistake. But now, I help out; I take care of the house while they’re gone, and I sign for packages if they send any art home.”
Jamal shook his head. “Geo, you’re not there to be their servant.”
“Well, I’ve failed them in so many other ways,” I replied, dropping my gaze to the table. “I didn’t exactly excel in high school, but my parents still insisted that I go to college. They had big plans and lofty goals for me to become an art appraiser, but I just couldn’t cut it. I tried so hard, studying every day, but I still failed out after two semesters. They were furious and called me an embarrassment.
“They wanted me out of the house, but also needed me around, so they cut a deal with me; one of their clients had a contact at Smith & Sons, and they could get me a job. Even though they hated I’d just basically be a receptionist, at least it was at a reputable company.”
Jamal slid his hand up my arm and under my chin, pressing gently until I looked up at him. “Geo, you are not an embarrassment. Remember what I said about every job being important?” I nodded. “I meant it. You’re needed at the office. Plus, you’re good at it; you immediately made me feel welcome.” He smirked and added, “Well, maybe not immediately.”
I snorted a laugh as my heart warmed at the way he cheered me up. “Thank you, Jamal.”
“Besides, I’m willing to bet you didn’t pass your college courses because your heart wasn’t in them.”
I nodded my agreement. “I’m just not a huge art fan; or really, a fan of most things they like. Having enough money for security is nice, but I don’t need the best and newest version of everything. I’d rather eat pizza and watch a movie than dine on caviar and go to the opera. Instead of waking up to an expensive toy under the Christmas tree, I would have been happier with a hug.”
I looked away again, realizing how pathetic and affection-starved I sounded. Neither of those things was untrue though. I hated that I didn’t have a good relationship with my parents. Hell, I’d never had a great relationship with anyone. I had a few boyfriends here and there, but those relationships always ended in one of two ways; either a man wanted me for the money he assumed I had, or they were irritated that I didn’t love money as much as they did.
Jamal made me look at him again. There was pain behind his eyes, and my heart squeezed, realizing that it was there for me. He had a wonderful experience with his own mother, and I was sure it broke his heart to hear that I didn’t.
“It’s okay,” I told him honestly. “I’m at peace too. It is what it is with them. But I also know that this is my life, and I’m in charge of making the best of it.”
His sad expression was replaced with a beautiful smile. “I love that attitude, and I hope I can help you make the best of it as well.”
“You already are.” I felt more of a connection with him in a short time than I had with anyone else…maybe ever. We understood each other, and I enjoyed his company. I wasn’t immune to blurting things out, as evidenced by our first meeting, and it held true when I added, “But more dates will definitely help too.”
A deep laugh rumbled in his chest, warming mine. “Good, because that was my plan,” he winked, and my heart raced. This was a date, it was a good one, and more were on the way. “Just one question, though; what should we do about work?”
“I was thinking that what they don’t know won’t hurt them,” I shrugged.
“And I like the way you think. And speaking of work, I enjoy my job because math and figures make sense to me. I’m a number nerd, so financial planning is right up my alley. You said art wasn’t your thing, but what is? If you could choose any job, what would it be? What would make you happy?”
I didn’t even have to think about it. “I’ve always wanted to do hair and nails.” I didn’t want him to think I was crazy, so I added, “I think I would be good at it; I do my own color.” I leaned in to whisper, “My hair isn’t this light naturally.”
Jamal gave another stomach-warming chuckle. “Well then, you are very good at it, because I would never have known. It looks amazing, just like the rest of you.” I wasn’t typically a shy person, but I still felt my cheeks warm at the compliment. “And I think cosmetology is art; your canvases are just human.”