Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Between her three business models now, yeah. On the low end, four hundred k. But it could go up to a million a year.”
“And he didn’t bleed her dry?”
“I think she was probably smart enough not to give him access to everything.”
“Smart and gorgeous. Sounds like your type.”
“Smart and gorgeous is everyone’s type.”
“Have you seen her since the service?”
“I went over the day that Ronny and her whole crew were descending on their place. To go through Matt’s belongings.”
“And pocket a few of Blair’s?”
Not while I was watching. But I wouldn’t have put it past Danny and the aunts to have walked off with something they shouldn’t have before I started watching over them. I didn’t want to think that way about Ronny. She’d been the only maternal figure in my life. And while the woman certainly had her flaws, I wanted to believe she was better than stealing from her son’s widow.
“How did she deal with them?”
“Honestly, she just let them steamroll her.”
“She probably figured it was easier than fighting them. Besides, can you imagine what she put up from them throughout her marriage?”
I wish I didn’t know some of the things I did about that, actually.
I’d never seen any of it firsthand, but Matt would tell me about some of the things his mother or aunts said about Blair. Things, it seemed, they said in front of his wife. And he said nothing about it. In fact, he even seemed to side with his family on a lot of it. As fucked up as that was.
“At least she’s free of them now.”
“We’ll see,” I said, remembering her barely contained frustration and the slice of pain she displayed when they’d been in her house, touching her stuff, talking shit about her pajamas.
Fuck, those pajamas.
“True. Next time Danny gets dragged in, they’re gonna be at her door looking for bail.”
“Maybe not. She was talking about moving. I gave her the name of my real estate agent.”
“Of course you did.”
“No reason for the smirk. I jotted down a name and number, that’s it.”
“Sure. You’re not imagining a place for the two of you to move into or anything. Extra bedrooms for all those kids you know you want.”
“She’s Matt’s widow.”
“And from the sound of things, the marriage was already over before he died.”
“It’s still wrong.”
Leo pushed out his chair and collected his trash.
“I think the only person who thinks that is you.”
With that, he tossed his garbage and headed out the front door. Leaving me alone, once again, with my conflicted thoughts.
And no escape from the way Blair overtook them all.
CHAPTER SIX
Blair
My apartment was suffocating me.
Everywhere I went, I was either overwhelmed with all the lost dreams swept under the rugs and hiding in the corners, or distracted by my packing.
Was I going to pay a hefty fee to break my lease? Absolutely. Would it be worth it to start over (again)? I thought so.
It honestly hadn’t really even crossed my mind until Nico mentioned it.
I’d spent months finding the perfect apartment. One that had been redone enough that I didn’t have to worry about strangers in my space, but still kept its bones. One with extra bedrooms for an office and kids. One with a large kitchen that spilled into the living room so I wouldn’t be isolated from everyone as I cooked meals. In a good school district. With great parks and markets close-by.
It had been the perfect apartment for the family I so desperately wanted.
But with those dreams shattered, it was time to move on. Immediately. If at all possible.
I’d wasted no time getting in touch with Nico’s real estate agent, telling her my price range and list of necessities (location, doorman, laundry in the apartment, large kitchen, soaking tub, updated, and with a gym in the building or one nearby) as well as some other wishlist items. The one thing I’d compromised on with my current place was having a small and windowless office. I wanted everything to be drenched in sunlight in the new place. Hoping, I guess, that it would chase away any possible ghosts haunting dark corners or hiding in my closets.
So far, I had two apartments I liked but wasn’t fully in love with. That said, I had ninety-percent of everything I owned in boxes. Because the second I found the right place, I was gone.
Even knowing that, the damn boxes everywhere felt like they were suffocating me.
I needed to get out.
I’d been standing in my living room in my black leggings and matching t-shirt, sports bra, running shoes, and ‘safe’ earbuds (that let you hear your surroundings as well as your audio) all ready to go.
Just waiting for sunrise.
It crept up like hope—soft, unhurried, full of promise. The night’s shadows withdrew with grace, and in their place, golden light bloomed like second chances.