Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
“Oh, thank goodness.” I didn’t think there was much hope of housekeeping finding them, but now I don’t have to hunt them down in a store and charge a small fortune to my credit card to replace them.
He drops it into my hand, his fingers brushing over my palm, and an accompanying zing zips through my veins. I swallow hard. “They were a … gift and I’d have been so disappointed if I lost one,” I lie. I’m just glad it gave me a chance to see him again.
“At least the earring brought you back here. So, what are you doing this afternoon? Want to show me around the city?” he asks in a gruff voice.
More than anything, I want to say yes, but the fact is, I can’t risk anyone seeing me with him. Last night was a close call, one I don’t care to repeat.
“I wish I could,” I tell him, hearing the disappointment in my voice. “Unfortunately, I have to work. I have a meeting this afternoon,” I lie. “In fact, I need to go now,” I add before I change my mind. Rising to my tiptoes, I press a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for everything,” I tell him and turn to go.
“Taylor, wait.”
But I ignore him and keep walking straight to the revolving door, past the doorman and into a waiting cab. “Bye, Jack,” I whisper, the ache in my chest real and painful.
CHAPTER SIX
Taylor
It’s Friday night, and my mother asked me to come for a family dinner. My sister, Holly, and my mom, Adele, are in the kitchen. Dinner smells delicious, the scent of garlic filling the air. I hop on a barstool while Mom fusses with last-minute prep, and Holly sips cola from a glass.
“So, how’s school?” I ask about her job as a teacher.
She smiles. “It’s good. My kids are mostly well-behaved, and I love teaching my fourth graders foundations for the future. And the best? Show-and-tell. Of course we don’t call it that. It’s current news. This week I asked them to bring in a historical artifact. Even if it was a news article mentioning it.”
I’m grinning before she tells the punch line. And with Holly, there’s always a punch line.
She leans forward, arms on the table. “One of my boys brought in a ‘rare fossil,’” she says with finger quotes. “We’d discussed fossils last week when we talked about dinosaurs. Anyway, turns out his fossil was a chicken nugget he’d left in his bag.” She wrinkles her nose and we laugh. “How are things with you? Work good?”
I nod. “Things are going well with the fundraising,” I tell her.
“And everything else?” I know what she’s asking. She’s the only person who knows the truth about my situation with Chandler. She’s not just my sister, she’s my best friend, and I trust her implicitly.
I glance at Mom, whose back is to us while she’s prepping food, before turning to Holly. “It’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” I force a smile. We know we’ll talk later.
Mom turns to face us, a smile on her face. “Both of my girls are happy. That’s all I can ask.” She lifts the salad bowl and places it on the center of the table.
“I’m starving,” Holly says, plucking a tomato off the top of the salad and popping it in her mouth.
“Your father should be home any minute and we can eat. He had a meeting at the foundation,” she says.
Mom walks over to the oven, opens the door, and the smell of roast chicken fills the room. “Holly, cut that out or there won’t be any tomatoes left in the salad,” she says, catching my sister in the act of grabbing another tomato without looking over her shoulder.
I shake my head and laugh. “I never did understand how mothers know things without actually seeing them.”
“That’s simple. Eyes in the back of our heads, sweetheart.” Mom chuckles just as footsteps sound in the hall.
“Adele, I’m home,” my father calls out as he walks into the kitchen. “Hi, girls!” He sounds excited to see us even though he knew we’d be here when he got home.
“Hi, Dad.” Holly rushes over and gives him a hug.
I step up for an embrace next. My father gives the best hugs. Even as an adult, I can recognize that.
“I hope it’s okay,” he says. “David called as I was leaving, and I invited him over for dinner,” he says, and my entire body freezes.
I despise my cousin; the fact that he works for Chandler and is willing to snitch on me to keep in the senator’s good graces is just one reason I can’t stand him. He’s my mom’s sister’s son, and he’s always been a weasel.
“Of course it’s no problem. What’s one more?” Mom asks, opening the cabinet and taking out an extra dish.