Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
I had already eaten during my business meeting, so I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t about to tell her that though, so I ordered the same thing as her and then regretted it when I saw how massive the burger was.
“It’s good, and so is the drink.” I hold up the old-fashioned, made with Kingston Limited’s Black Label. “Are you from around here?” I ask conversationally.
The entire meal, we’ve talked about her job and how she fell into it after she dropped out of college, just before her senior year, to move back home to take care of her mom, who had fallen sick, but she’s yet to give me anything more.
“I am,” she says vaguely, leaving it at that.
I’ve noticed that while she talks about herself, she keeps the details to a minimum. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m a stranger or what, but it’s almost like she doesn’t want me to know anything significant about her.
“What about you? Are you from Harbor Point or Coral Bay?”
“Harbor Point. I flew to Coral Bay for a business meeting.”
She takes another bite of her burger, and I laugh at the moan she makes.
“Are burgers your favorite food?” I ask, wanting to know more about her.
“One of them. But I love anything breakfast-related the most.” Her eyes light up. “When I was growing up, after my parents divorced, Mom would do breakfast for dinner sometimes. It was a cheap way to feed us when money was tight. She felt bad, but I loved it. Pancakes, sausage, bacon, biscuits and gravy, and toast with jam. It became my go-to meal.” She shrugs. “When I have a family of my own, I’m serving breakfast for dinner, even if we’re not broke.”
I chuckle, trying to imagine eating breakfast for dinner. When I was growing up, we had a housekeeper who cooked for us—and still does—and I’m pretty sure she’d have smacked me upside the head if I’d requested breakfast for dinner.
Her phone starts to beep, and she glances down at it, turning it off.
“Time for work,” she says with a smile.
She reaches into her bag and pulls out a couple of bills, but I’m already shaking my head.
“You’re really not going to let me at least pay for my own meal?” she asks.
“No.” I chuckle and then lean in so our faces are close. “Since I’m paying, I can call this our first date, and it’ll be harder for you to argue when I ask you for your number to arrange a second date.”
It takes her a second to wrap her head around my words, but once she does, she throws her head back with a laugh. “That was good,” she says. “But it’s not happening.”
“Me paying?” I ask, even though I already know what she meant.
“You getting my number or taking me out on a date,” she clarifies.
“Why not?”
I can think of a dozen reasons why I shouldn’t pursue this woman, starting with the fact that until I sort out this arranged-marriage bullshit, I’m technically promised to another woman. Yet I still want Peyton to say yes.
“We don’t live near each other, so it would never work.”
I open my mouth to argue, but before I can come up with a rebuttal, she adds, “And if you tell me it doesn’t matter, it does. I know we both feel it. The chemistry sizzling between us. Add in the fact that I haven’t had sex in months, and it would be easy for me to get caught up in the moment. But I tried the long-distance thing with my ex, who swore he loved me, only for him to cheat on me with my best friend. Three years wasted.” She sighs. “You’re handsome, and from what I can tell, you’re sweet and chivalrous, but I have my mom to take care of, and I’m just not in a place to start something that will ultimately lead to heartbreak.”
I want to argue with her, but everything she’s saying is spot-on. I can’t give her what she needs, and it would be selfish of me to say otherwise.
So, instead, I pull a hundred out of my money clip, drop it onto the table, and then stand. “It was great to meet you, Peyton, and I enjoyed getting to know you.”
She nods in understanding and stands as well. “It was great to meet you, Dominick. Thank you again for what you did with Dale. I really appreciate it.”
When we reach the gate, Peyton disappears behind the door, and soon after, business class is called to board. The entire trip, she’s professional. She smiles and says all the right things when getting me a couple of drinks. But I can see a hint of sadness hidden behind her expression and I can’t help but wonder if maybe she was hoping that instead of agreeing with her, I would fight for her.