Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Maybe you need to get into more trouble,” Darcy says. “You need to show them some big stick energy.”
I bark out a laugh.
But she’s not done. “What kind of trouble do you want to get into? Road rage incident? Bar fight?”
“Sure, Kendrick. But why stop there? We could rob the package store on the way to this party.”
Darcy snickers. “I’d like to see that. You’d probably be polite about it. ‘Sir, if you wouldn’t mind opening that cash drawer. And if you’re having any woman troubles, I’m a good listener.’”
I try not to laugh, but she’s right.
“It’s fun hearing you say package store,” she says, leaning back in her seat. “Nobody says that in New York. Takes me back to high school.”
“Yeah? Do you get back to Massachusetts often? You grew up in… Bracknell, was it?”
There’s a brief silence from the passenger seat. “I don’t get back here too often,” she says slowly. “Just a couple of days at Christmas. My mother moved to New Jersey. My father is still in Massachusetts. But over the summer break, I’m busy with school. And the rest of the year… you know our schedule.”
“Yeah,” I agree. It’s a lot. But I like it that way. “Tell me about your family. Who am I meeting at this party?”
She mutters something under her breath. It sounds like here we go.
Chapter 11
The New-Leather Smell
Darcy
Up until now, I’ve been sipping my latte and trying not to be so stupidly impressed by the new-leather smell of Eric’s Porsche or unnerved by the cozy size of the car’s cockpit.
We’re just two work friends heading to the same party, I keep telling myself. Stay calm.
Except now we’ve reached the tricky part of the conversation—my family. And since he’s about to meet most of them, I’m going to have to explain. Not that I’ll enjoy it.
Although it begs the question—which is more embarrassing? DMing Eric with an offer to lick him? Or my family’s history?
It’s kind of a tough call. And Eric is waiting for my explanation. Even now, he’s turning down the radio to listen, which is a thing men aren’t usually good at.
If being earnest were his whole personality, though, I wouldn’t have a hormone rush every time I see him. On skates, he’s a force of nature. It’s like seeing a chess grandmaster dominate the board while bench-pressing a car. And I’m supposed to watch that on a regular basis and continue on as a functional human being? In this economy?
“Darcy?” he prompts. “I was just making conversation. You don’t have to tell me about Bracknell or your family if you don’t want to.”
“I kind of have to, though,” I say with a sigh. “So… Bracknell is a big suburban sprawl. You’ve probably only been there for hockey games, or maybe you passed it on a school bus headed to Minute Man Park. Excellent D1 hockey team, though. It’s about thirty-five minutes to Marblehead.” Which will be relevant in a minute.
“I like a town with its priorities straight.” Eric accelerates for a lane change. “You probably never went to Marblehead, either. Unless you were passing it to go to the beach.”
You’d be wrong. “That’s actually where my father lives. But I haven’t spent much time there.”
He gives me a glance of confusion.
“Welcome to the family drama. It’s quite the story.”
He gives an awkward chuckle. “Well, now I’m really curious. Mostly for Maribel’s sake. This wedding is happening kind of fast. One minute they’re newly engaged and planning a wedding for next year. And then suddenly, the wedding is happening this summer. Kind of made me wonder if…” he hesitates.
“If Maribel is pregnant?”
He winces. “It’s really none of my business.”
“Nor mine. But the thing you need to realize is that their excuse sounds totally plausible.” The email—from earlier this spring—had said that a weekend spot opened up at Blue Button Bay, and that they’d snapped it up. “My father is a hotel executive at the Wayfair Group, and Blue Button is one of his signature properties. If Theo holds his wedding there, he probably doesn’t even have to pay for it. It’s cheap, convenient, and showy. And that place is usually booked years in advance.”
“Oh,” Eric says slowly.
“Yeah. Moving up a wedding to hold it at Daddy’s original luxury resort is absolutely something my family would do.”
“Huh,” he says, smoothly passing a minivan.
“It’s complicated.” I sigh. “I had a perfectly boring childhood in Bracknell until I was thirteen. My dad worked in commercial real estate and was a part owner in the Blue Button and a bunch of other properties. He traveled a lot. At least that’s what we thought. And then one day, we caught him in a lie.”
Eric gives me a nervous glance. Like maybe he regrets asking.
But since we’re headed into the epicenter of the Randolph family drama, I can’t really avoid the topic. “Tessa and Theo are my dad’s other children, whom he had with his other wife in Marblehead. My mother and I didn’t know anything about them.”