Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
She agreed to pop back in on the night we officially launch.
I have Myra to thank for all of that since she is friends with the woman and was the one who convinced her to carve out a bit of her time in her packed schedule to meet with me.
“I come bearing dinner,” he says. “Something tells me you won’t be eating a decent meal tonight, so I brought something I think you’ll like.”
My gaze drops to the large brown paper bag in his hand. Something deliciously fragrant is inside of it. The smell is filling the air around us. “What is it?”
“Grilled vegetable sandwiches with the best burrata you’ve ever tasted.” His eyebrows lift. “I had no idea if Myra or Bristol are vegan or avoid gluten, so I had the restaurant prepare a couple of salads too. There’s no dairy cheese in those.”
His thoughtfulness is almost too much to bear. Every other man I’ve been with never even took the time to consider what I liked, let alone what the people around me may have preferred.
“This is beyond kind,” I whisper, studying his handsome face. “How can you be real?”
He laughs that off as if it isn’t a valid question.
I don’t join in, but instead, I stare at him. “I’ve never met anyone like you, William.”
He steps closer to where I’m standing. All of the noise of the city and the people rushing past us melt away. All I can see and feel is him. “That works both ways, Opal. You are, without a doubt, the most incredible person I’ve ever known.”
My heart lurches in my chest. I swear I feel the barrier I constructed around it to protect myself chip away.
Could I fall in love with him? Is that happening already?
My thoughts are interrupted when I hear my name being called in the distance. “Opal! Hey, Opal! We’re here!”
William’s gaze darts over his shoulder to follow mine as I see Myra and Bristol on the approach.
“They’re here,” he states, in a tone laced with mild disappointment. “I’ll leave you to them and the food. Enjoy, Opal.”
“I will,” I tell him. “I’ll talk to you soon?”
“Talk, kiss, fuck,” he whispers as he leans closer. “You say the word, and I’ll be available to do anything you want.”
I reach up to graze a finger over his smooth jaw. “I want all of it.”
I think I want more than that, including a future with him, but I don’t know how to tell him. The last time I was that vulnerable with a man, it ended with my heart shattered.
“You know how to find me.” He lifts my hand to his mouth to kiss my palm softly. “Bye, Opal.”
“Bye,” I say as he turns to greet my co-managers before he merges into the pedestrian traffic and disappears around the corner.
“I’m glad you stopped by,” I tell my Aunt Hildy as she finishes the last bite of one of the grilled vegetable sandwiches William handed me earlier.
Myra and Bristol dove into the salads with gusto, finishing them off as we sat around one of the tables in the bar, discussing how we envision our grand opening week.
Naturally, my vision was filled with a dozen different what-if scenarios, including being robbed, the power going off, or no one showing up.
Myra and Bristol’s predictions gave me hope. They haven’t been available to do as much as I hoped in the lead up to our official hard launch, but they have cleared their schedules for the most part, so they can devote as much time as I need them to in the coming weeks.
Bristol assured me we’d find a perfect balance, and Turquoise Crown will be a big hit. I have my fingers crossed that will be the case. It’s not just because I’ve invested a fair chunk of money into this bar, but I want this to succeed so I can honor Hildy’s legacy.
She happened to stop in just as Myra and Bristol were headed out, so I invited her in, plopped one of the sandwiches in front of her with a tall glass of cold water.
She started eating without reservation, only stopping to ask for half a glass of red wine.
“Tell me about William,” she surprises me with that. “I like that boy. I think you might, too.”
“I like him,” I admit.
“Enough to take a chance with him?”
I consider that for a minute while I take a sip from the wine glass I filled for myself. I swallow hard, willing myself to find the strength to talk about this. “I’m scared, Aunt Hildy.”
“I know.” She reaches for one of the paper napkins that I scattered on the table when I emptied the bag of food. After wiping her hands clean, she motions that she wants me to take her right hand in mine. I do.