Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“We can just go to Value Village. It’s closer than the mall,” Everly pipes up.
“What’s Value Village?” Connor asks.
“A clothing store,” I offer.
Five minutes later, we pull into the parking lot of a strip mall that contains a few big-box stores and a Value Village.
Everly and Victor hop out of the car.
Connor frowns, but exits the vehicle, and we follow them in.
I hand them both a shopping basket. “Go wild, kids.”
“I don’t need anything new,” Victor replies.
“You might find something you like, though. And you can pick a few things for the other kids at the home.”
His eyes light up. “Okay. I can do that.” He heads for the men’s section.
“This is a used clothing store,” Connor murmurs.
I slip my arm around his waist. “They can’t show up with designer clothes, Connor. The other kids at the group home will be jealous, and they could get rolled for their outfits. Or they’ll just sell them, because the money is more important than brand names.”
He gazes down at me, expression intense. “Do you know this from personal experience?”
I shrug. I’ve seen plenty of kids fight over shiny things. “Everly’s too feisty not to get into it with people, and I’d like to save her from the potential fallout.”
“You really care about these two,” he muses.
“I understand their life.”
We spend the next hour shopping for clothes. They pick something for each of the kids in the group home, and Everly comes out with two new pairs of jeans, a few shirts, and a sweater. Victor picks a button-down and a pair of dress pants for job interviews. We stop for food on the way back, which they eat in the car.
I accompany Victor and Everly into the group home so I can explain the situation, leaving out any details that might add to their trouble. Connor stays in the car this time.
Fifteen minutes later, I slide back into the passenger seat with a sigh.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“They’ll be fine.” As far as group homes go, it’s a good one.
We’re halfway home when Connor finally asks the question I’ve been avoiding. “What secret are you keeping from me, darling?”
“Maybe we should wait until we’re home,” I suggest. I’m tired and sad. Everly and Victor have a group home with amazing staff, but it’s not a replacement for a loving family and a stable environment. They have each other, but they deserve so much more.
“It’s that bad?” Connor’s voice sounds strained.
What scenarios must he be spinning? What secrets have people kept from him that make him so closed off and distrustful?
“We rely on donations to help fund most of the programs I run at the library, and that funding was pulled earlier this week.” I start off with the truth that has less bite. “So I’ve been writing grant proposals.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I can help with this. How much does the library need? Who was the donor, and why did they pull their funding?” Connor volleys questions at me.
I run my hands down my thighs and press my nails against my knees. “I don’t have all the details, but I believe it was probably a division of Grace Hotels. A foundation, perhaps?”
“Meems wouldn’t pull a donation from the library.”
“No, she wouldn’t,” I agree.
He turns onto his street, brow furrowed.
Now to tell him the hard part. “Your father paid me a visit at the library while you were away.” I don’t need to say more. The dots are already connected.
“What did he say to you?”
“Nothing he doesn’t believe is true.”
He punches in the code, and the gates open. “Tell me what he said, Mildred.”
“I don’t really want to,” I say softly.
Connor parks and we exit the vehicle. He follows me up the front steps.
Cedrick opens the door.
I force a smile.
“Is everything all right?” Cedrick asks.
“We’re fine,” I lie.
“Mildred and I would like privacy for the remainder of the evening,” Connor clips out and heads for the elevator.
“Yes, sir.” Cedrick rushes off, leaving me alone with my angry husband.
Thanks for the save, Ceddy.
Connor waits until we’re in the elevator. “Tell me.”
I’m too tired and sad to fight with him. “He said I would never be a Grace.”
“You’re my wife. You are a Grace.”
“He also said I was a whore.”
Connor’s eyes flash, and for a moment I see the hockey player who doesn’t mind being the villain on the ice. “That fucker.”
“He’s not wrong, though, is he, Connor? You’re paying me to play this role.” I hold up my hand with the massive diamond ring on it. “And we’re fucking, so doesn’t that make me exactly what he says I am?”
My stomach twists as his expression darkens.
“Nowhere in our contract does it say you’re obligated to sleep with me.”
“But we still have a contract.” And isn’t that the piece that I keep circling back to?
These feelings I have don’t sit inside the written agreement. And his outrage at his father’s behavior could be tied to so many things. Is he angry because he truly cares, or is it because my unhappiness directly affects all the things that are important to him?