Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
But I quickly realized I was too old for her. At only twenty-eight, even men her own age are too old for her, apparently. The girl is a hunter.
She goes on, “I finished the expense report and emailed an outline of the research.”
I click through my mail. “I see it.”
“Bill needs you to call him sometime tomorrow…or today”—she corrects herself, given the time difference—“and South Korea has decided the downtown lot is the best.”
I bring my mug of coffee to my lips. “Well, they’ll have an excellent view of the Burj Khalifa.”
“Prestige by proximity,” she sings in her posh BBC lilt.
“Precisely.”
“It could be worse.” She stacks another folder. “Their board could’ve decided on a glass curtain building.”
I chuckle. “I would quit.”
She smiles, knowing me about as well as anybody now.
I scroll messages, seeing if there’s anything I need to address with her before she leaves the office for the night. It’s already after seven there.
But then she inquires, “Why are you in a suit?”
At her accusing tone, I look up. I only brought suits. And exercise gear.
“You’re home,” she scolds, her eyes gentle like she’s talking to a kid. “I Googled it. Middle America, baseball, apple pie… Relax a little.”
“Yeah, I’m done talking to you now.”
She grins. “Have a good day, Mr. Morrow.”
“Keep me in the loop.” And I end the call.
Closing the laptop, I note the thumbs up from Lance to meet tonight at eight and start to text Madoc back. He wanted me to meet him at Jax and Juliet’s summer camp today, but I can’t imagine why.
Or rather, I know why, even though he won’t admit it. He wants to reacquaint me with the town. I haven’t been around much yet, but I can tell a lot is different. More restaurants, bigger homes, a bustling downtown area… Shelburne Falls is a quaint little stop for food and shopping while people are on their way to the lake or Chicago. I half-suspect he and my mother are in this together, some plot to make me fall in love with home all over again.
I never stopped loving home. I just resisted thinking about it. Every time my mind drifted away from the sun and the desert sand to the summer rain and black soil of the Falls, I’d stop myself. It was hard at first. The bad memories were forefront—the stress and worry. But now, it’s easy. My work has taken its place, and that’s my home now. My life has a routine.
Carrying my mug, I walk to the window and slip my phone in my pocket, the text to Madoc still not sent. Branches sway in the morning breeze, the cloud-covered sky dark and threatening, and I slow my breathing, trying to calm my heart. It’s been pounding off and on since I left the bakery this morning, and I’d love to believe it’s the three cups of coffee since.
Quinn.
I’d thought of her over the years. Every once in a while. I’d brush my teeth and think, with a small laugh, about the time she asked how the stripes got in the toothpaste, or I’d look into the koi pond of the restaurant I’d taken a client to and remembered how she once wondered if fish get thirsty. So many questions.
I shake my head. I should’ve searched the family’s accounts and social media posts, even discreetly, just to check up on them. At least I would’ve known what she looked like last night.
So even then, at Frosted this morning—fully aware of who she was now—why did I still want to look at her?
And I can’t be the only one. This town is packed, summer traffic heavy, and someone’s going to be interested in her if they aren’t already. I guess that’s good. She should have someone. She seems on her own a lot. At the shop this morning and at the gym last night.
Guilt creases my brow, thinking about how I seemed to always be her other half when the family would go to theme parks or movies back in the day. I don’t want to think that no one has taken my place in the time I’ve been gone. That she’s been the odd one out.
I want her to be happy. She deserves all of it.
But…romances at her age rarely last, of course. Let her concentrate on her business. Life is a shitshow in your twenties anyway. She doesn’t need assholes, and every guy in his twenties is a dick. I’m glad her brothers look like they’re on top of it.
I set the coffee down, take out my phone, and send a text to Madoc.
Be there by noon.
Slipping my phone away, I pick up the mug again and lift it to my mouth, but then…I notice it.
A Traverse parked across the street.
I stop, tightening my grip on the mug as I study the dark figure in the driver’s seat. The army green SUV was there yesterday too. With a frozen figure lurking inside. I’d thought maybe they lived on the street, but…