Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Hello, Greer,” he greets me, but keeps his distance.
I appreciate that, but still, I have to wonder if he’ll keep the discussion on a strictly business level tonight.
“Hi,” I answer succinctly, not bothering to add his name to it because I’m still trying to get used to the fact that it’s not Joe.
“Let’s grab a table.” He motions toward a trio of empty tables. “The bartender is bringing me another scotch. I didn’t order for you because I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
He knows I like red wine, but I’m glad to hear he didn’t presume anything, because I rarely drink. I did in East Hampton because apparently I was living my life without any inhibitions during that weekend.
I’ve snapped back into reality now.
I take a seat at the table that is closest to the corner. Holden sits directly across from me, but the table is circular and small, so the distance between us is only a few feet.
The bartender appears with Holden’s drink in hand. When he asks me what I’d like, I make it clear. “Just water, please. Light ice. No lemon or lime.”
“I’ll get that for you,” he says in a warm tone.
Holden stares at me as he sips from his glass. He places it down, still not saying anything. I can’t tell if he’s gathering his thoughts or waiting for me to launch this conversation.
Fortunately, the bartender shows up with my water. I down half in one gulp before he’s back at the bar.
“I had no idea who you were in East Hampton, Greer.”
My head pops up. “You didn’t?”
“No fucking idea.” Holden chuckles. “I knew your real name wasn’t Summer Time.”
I manage a small smile. “It doesn’t take a detective to figure that out.”
He smiles, too. “I’ve used the Joe Campbell name at different times over the past fourteen or so years.”
“Why did you use it that weekend?” I ask, sipping another mouthful of water.
“There’s no particular reason.” He shrugs. “Things between us felt fun, and since you tossed out a fake name, I jumped on board and did it, too.”
It makes sense, so I nod. “I had no idea who you were either then.”
“I know.” He chuckles. “Your reaction at the meeting gave that away.”
“It was that obvious?” I ask as he drinks.
He places the glass down again, sliding a fingertip over the rim. “You looked as shocked as I felt. I could not fucking believe you walked into my conference room. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“That was the plan,” I whisper.
“Plans have changed,” he points out the obvious. “We need to figure out how to handle it.”
I stare at him. He’s not wearing the eyeglasses he had on earlier. I suddenly wonder if they’re a fashion statement and not a necessity. “No glasses tonight?”
I accentuate the point by circling a finger in the air around my right eye.
Shaking his head, he chuckles. “I typically wear contact lenses. I am now. Glasses are my last choice, but after you told me you liked the look weeks ago, I’ve been wearing them more frequently.”
I almost repeat how much I like the look, but I refrain and keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t need to hear how gorgeous I think he is, or that he’s by far the best lover I’ve ever had.
“That bracelet is cute.” He tilts his chin toward my left hand. “That’s a friendship bracelet, right?”
Panic soars through me. I look down and I’m immediately grateful that all the letters on the colorful, beaded bracelet are turned inward and out of his view. I didn’t do that on purpose since I’m not the one who slid it onto my wrist at dinner tonight.
Olive did that. She made it with Martha this afternoon as they sat on a bench in Central Park after buying the kit at a toy store. Martha had one with GRANDMA spelled out on it around her wrist. Bruce’s was fashioned with bright blue beads in addition to the word GRANDPA.
Mine is almost all pink with the most precious word in the world at the center of it all.
MOMMY.
I place my hand over the bracelet, shielding it completely from Holden’s view. “It is a friendship bracelet.”
“Am I safe to assume your business partner didn’t give you that?”
I almost laugh out loud as I drop my left hand to my lap, ensuring the bracelet is out of his view. “Krista’s mad at me now, but we’ll figure it out.”
Nodding, he takes another small sip of his scotch. “She wants to sell. I take it you don’t.”
“I don’t,” I whisper. “But, we have a lot to talk about. We will. Krista and I are close.”
“I’m open to negotiating the offer to terms that would suit you both,” he effortlessly shifts into full business mode. “I can have an amendment to you by tomorrow at noon.”