Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 108862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“If you let me get the first hit,” he says back.
“Deal.”
I’m literally rubbing my temples. “Now you guys are plotting violence together against my client?”
“He ain’t your client,” grunts Diego. “He’s a jerk-off.”
“Stop calling him that,” I hiss back.
“Well, that’s what he is. And what he does. Jerkin’ off all over your beautiful shop. Jerkin’ off all over your pride. Jerkin’ off on your dime and demanding you feel grateful for his jerkin’ on you.”
Clearing of a throat. We all look up.
A family sitting on the bench across the aisle from us, literally three feet of distance between us and them.
Little girl staring, big-eyed and pigtailed. Sweet-faced brother, college-aged, tightly-parted hair and khakis. Their parents.
I smile at them. “Morning, Mrs. Shannon … Mr. Shannon.” I swallow. “Lovely, uh, s-sermon earlier, wasn’t it? Trey really …” I fidget. “… really knows how to give a … a g-great sermon.”
The hostess approaches, announces their table is ready.
They get up and leave with the host.
The three of us remain on our bench, waiting, silent.
Connie leans in to me. “I never liked the Shannons.”
I press my hands over my face.
Diego huffs and rises. “Gotta take a leak.” Off he goes, leaving me with my sister. The waiting room just went from cramped and suffocating to vast and empty in seconds. The music plays over the speakers, muffled and weird and far away.
“Maybe I had your hot mechanic pegged down all wrong,” my sister says after a while. “I’ll give him a chance. Cross my heart. Especially if you really are doing the nasty with him.” She lowers her voice. “Also … are you seriously letting me win at chess? What the actual hell, Wyatt?”
I blink at her, speechless.
Would anything else like to come at me today? There’s a line.
Then the three of us are smack dab in the middle of the busy restaurant, occupying an island of silence as Diego sips coffee and takes one contemplative bite of crepe at a time, Connie scarfs hers down like she’s storing up for winter, and I’m drawing shapes on my plate with my butter knife through the maple syrup.
And we are still getting glances.
Curious ones. Excited ones. Women whispering to friends and looking over at us, writing our fan-fics before our eyes. Flower boy and the mysterious newcomer to town. Unless the sleuths already worked out who he is, roping Lottie and Marcos into the gossip. They’re probably already plotting out our wedding. Or taking bets on which of us is the top.
I don’t have to be in on any of the gossip groups.
Sundays were already the worst without being the subject of the whispering and peeping.
“I’m not sure what to be more pissed about,” says Connie after a sip of her orange juice. It’s the first thing she’s said since we sat down and ordered. “That you think I’m that bad at chess, or still think I’m the detention-getting troublemaker I was in high school who can’t get their life together and needs ‘wins’ in life.”
I guess she was listening at the front door a lot longer than I thought. Why she chose not to say anything until now, I can only guess the sight of Diego was enough to wipe her brain earlier.
It’s anything but wiped now.
“Guess that’s just family for you,” she mumbles. “Always stuck seeing the younger, unrefined versions of each other. Never the … vastly improved … mature … capable adults we become. Mom and Dad probably look down on me the same. They’d be gagged if they saw how well I’m doing. Do you even know how well I’m doing? Or am I still just your sister who couldn’t hook a doctor ‘cause he was too busy poking the blonde at the front desk?”
“The fuck?” grunts Diego. “You were with some doctor who cheated on you? For real? What an asshole.”
“Almost married the bastard, too. Mom was over the moon.” She shakes her head. “Then she sorta blamed me. In a nice way. She didn’t mean to. But she did. Thought I was repeating my bad teenage habits at the ripe age of thirty-something. She can’t let go of the old me any more than my little brother apparently can.”
“Connie …” I try.
“You leave your knights undefended,” she says, “and always sacrifice your bishops way too soon when it could’ve cost you just a pawn. No checkmating me for three months? Really? I basically already knew you were letting me win. Just didn’t wanna believe you’d also feel the need to coddle my sensitive ego like Mom does.”
“That wasn’t what I was doing. I was just—”
“No way! Miss Becky? Yes, I’m in town! Hug me!” Connie’s out of her seat. “Are the boys with you? Show me to the boys!” And off she goes to see her Becky, leaving me and Diego at the table.