Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
He glanced at me as we sat next to each other, and I smiled at him—not the kind of obligatory smile I’d been resorting to all week because of those walls I’d erected, but a real and intimate one that softened my features and hopefully conveyed my willingness to let him in.
He tipped his head, as if sensing the change in me. “I take it you slept well last night?” he asked as everyone else settled into their seats, with Owen sitting beside me at the end of the table.
“I would have slept better in your bed, with you,” I teased in a whisper, giving him enough to realize that I was also completely serious.
His gaze searched mine, and I saw the hopeful look in his eyes as he reached down and took my good hand, weaving our fingers intimately together. The gesture conveyed affection and tenderness, comfort and reassurance, and I opened myself to all those things with him.
“You and I need to talk,” he said.
We hadn’t really “talked” much over the past week because I hadn’t allowed it, but he obviously saw an opening he didn’t want to let slip though his fingers. Usually we need to talk came with an adverse implication, but I had a feeling that Caleb and I were finally, hopefully, on the same page.
“Yes, we do,” I agreed.
For the next hour, it was all about celebrating Owen’s birthday. The adults ordered brunch entrees, and pancakes for Owen, followed by a chocolate cake with candles. The presents everyone had brought for the occasion were unwrapped, revealing Lego sets, superhero figurines, Minecraft gear, and a Nerf gun from his uncle Remy.
“They’re right over there,” a familiar female voice said in a loud, demanding tone, interrupting our festivities. “I can see them in that room and I want to wish my son a happy birthday.”
My stomach pitched, already knowing who it was before we all glanced in Alyssa’s direction, watching her approach—a bit unsteadily—with a hostess trying to dissuade her. The same man I’d seen at the gala with her trailed a few feet behind, clearly looking uncomfortable with the scene she was making.
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Kane,” the hostess said as they reached us. “I’ll go get the manager.”
“It’s fine,” Alyssa insisted irritably, shooing away the young girl with her hand. Then she dropped her purse on the end of the table and held her arms out toward Owen. “Come here and give your mother a hug.”
Owen shook his head and shrank away from Alyssa and toward me, pressing against me, like he’d seen this side of his mother before and it scared him. I wrapped an arm protectively around him, refusing to let Alyssa near him, and the look she gave me was pure disdain.
Caleb abruptly stood up to diffuse the situation, and even across the table Remy was tense as he watched the scene unfold. The only man who didn’t seem poised and ready to interfere was her date. Instead, he stood off to the side, looking embarrassed. Clearly, he didn’t have the backbone to deal with Alyssa’s bullshit, which was why she was probably with a man like him.
“You need to leave, Alyssa,” Caleb said, more calmly than I knew he felt, because he was trying to keep things civil in front of his son.
Cara, as if sensing things were about to escalate, jumped up from her seat and came around to Owen, gently taking his hand. “Hey, Owey, let’s take your Nerf gun and go play with it on the beach.”
“Okay,” he said quietly.
I released him, and he slid off his seat and went with Cara, giving his mother a wide berth as the two of them left the restaurant, and I could understand why. Alyssa’s face was flushed, her pupils little pinpoints, and she overall seemed agitated and unstable.
“Are you serious?” She whirled on Caleb furiously. “I can’t even wish my son a happy birthday?”
Caleb came around to the front of the table. “You weren’t invited, and this is my weekend with Owen.”
Again, calm and controlled, but I could see the rigid set of his body.
Alyssa rolled her eyes insolently. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m still a member at this club, too, so I’m welcome here whenever I want.” Her gaze slid past Caleb, to me, a sneer on her lips. “And, really, I belong here more than she does. All this tramp is doing is taking advantage of what your money can buy her. But like I already told her, money can’t change where you come from—”
“That’s enough,” Caleb snapped, and grabbed her arm. While she sputtered protests, he led her through the dining room and out a set of glass doors that led to the patio outside.
The guests in the dining room watched the scene, and the man she’d brought with her grimaced, shifting awkwardly on his feet, but he didn’t go to Alyssa’s rescue as she yelled at Caleb, which we could all see happening through the glass doors.