Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
“Not much. When I was younger, in high school, I made all kinds of things like T-shirts and hoodies and skirts, but after I graduated, I didn’t have a lot of time because of work.” She moves around the kitchen like a pro, taking out steaks and green beans from the refrigerator, onions from a drawer in the center island, spices from a rack next to the stove. Her kitchen is kitted out well. I give myself a mental pat on the back even though all I did was provide the money for it.
“What kind of work did you do?” I’m curious about her entire life.
“Everything and anything. I waited tables, parked cars, delivered food, detasseled corn, cleaned hog pens.”
It makes sense why she took on the task of being my wife. I’d marry a stranger, too, to avoid those jobs. “By the way, Wick doesn’t have warts.” I wanted to clear the air about that before, but it slipped my mind.
She laughs a little and hands me a glove. “Here, put this on. It will protect your fingers from the mandoline blade. Run the peeled potatoes across the surface. It will make thin slices which I’ll blanch and then bake with cheese and bacon.”
My stomach rumbles. “At your service.”
“Is working for Wick your only job?”
I hesitate in answering her. I told her before I was the real deal, but she didn’t believe me. I don’t really have any way of proving it to her outside of commanding Rise to come to the apartment and vouch for me, which would be weird, and I’m probably already a very bizarre person in her head.
A guy who pays for a wife and then never meets her, someone known to be a recluse with big warts all over his body. Probably best if I just continue to be Wick’s stand-in—at least until I have dinner with her. Maybe over a post-meal port wine, I can find a way to break the news to her. That I concocted this whole scheme because I didn’t know how to woo a woman. That I’m not the loser that it seems I am. The least I can do is keep my lies to a minimum.
“Mmm. He’s not really a recluse either. He just never attends any events that he’s supposed to attend.”
“Like the luncheon?” she asks, chopping the onions effortlessly without a tear dropping.
“Like the luncheon, like charity things, like even business deals. He handles them all by phone or email. Doesn’t do face-to-face meetings, so everyone assumes he never leaves the house.”
“Intriguing. There’s a bowl in the cabinet to your left. Fill it with cold water and put the potato slices in it. You can wash the lettuce next.” Belle keeps me busy. “What about his family?”
“Just his mom. His dad died when he was young. What about you?”
“Two older sisters. My parents are both alive. They all live in this small town in Nebraska. My sister actually won a beauty pageant and went to compete in a national contest. Didn’t win anything, but it’s a big deal.”
There’s a tone in her voice that I can’t quite make out. A hint of sadness and resignation. Did she compete too and lose to her sister? I can’t see how that’s possible. “Good thing you didn’t enter. You’d have beat her.”
“Not really.”
“Belle, you’re one of the most beautiful women in the world. Anyone with eyes can see it. That’s why those ladies today chased you out of the luncheon. They were intimidated by your beauty and charm.”
She bursts out laughing. I stare at her in confusion, unsure of what I said that set her off. She notices that I’m not joining her merriment, and her chuckles die off. “Wait, you’re serious? That’s not why they didn’t want me there. They thought I was poor and ugly and didn’t want to be around me because of that.”
“I doubt it. They would have taken Wick in, and he’s supposedly a small troll with warts. Ugly doesn’t bother them.”
“Money then. I lack it.”
“So? You’re still beautiful.”
She sets her knife down and reaches up to pat my cheek. “You’re sweet, Charlie.”
I freeze at her touch. Sweet isn’t how I feel right now. All the want and need I pushed down and tried to forget roars to the surface. I grab her wrist and turn my face so my lips are pressed against her palm. “Nothing sweet about me, Belle,” I growl.
Chapter Thirteen
ANNABELLE
Atingle on the palm of my hand where he’d kissed lingers. All through our meal we talked, and I learned more about him. Charles is easy to talk to, and I can’t help but be rather smitten when he gives me compliments, and I believe him. I can see the sincerity in his eyes, the way the softness is at the edges.