Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 138315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 692(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 692(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
An opinion on something Axl had never considered hit him with a surety that surprised him.
He hated his parents’ home.
It was classic, pompous, had zero uniqueness, no personality, and the best things you could say about it were that it was big, it was sturdy, and at a push, it was stately.
But it was boring.
If you had to guess who lived in that house, you’d probably say conservative, elderly and uptight.
Except the elderly, all true.
He drove around back to the huge area that included four garage doors, an archway covered in some flowering plant that didn’t quite hide the pool and tennis court beyond and the small detached mother-in-law house where his mom and dad’s assistant/ housekeeper lived.
And he hadn’t felt the feeling he was feeling as he parked since his dad reamed his ass in front of his teammates and coaches for coming in second in the hundred-yard dash in regionals his sophomore year.
But he knew what the feeling was.
He was embarrassed.
“Okay, so your dad isn’t like, a successful attorney. He’s, like, a super-duper, mega successful attorney,” Hattie noted.
“We’ll just say his firm does the very least pro bono work they can do and not look like complete assholes rather than total assholes. Every hour is a billable hour. And he works a lot.”
“Axl,” she called, her voice searching, soft.
He turned to her to see her gaze the same as her voice.
“Are you okay, honey?” she asked.
Shit.
He wasn’t.
“We do it, it’s done,” he said.
She let her seatbelt go that time, came in and touched her glossed lips to his.
She pulled back, still staring into his eyes.
“There’s one thing I already know I’ll always love about your parents. They made you.”
Fucking fuck.
Another punch right to the sternum.
She read his intent before he did what he intended.
He knew it when she ordered, “Don’t mess up my lip gloss.”
“I’m gonna mess up your lip gloss, beautiful,” he warned.
And then he did.
When he was done, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as she reapplied.
They got out of the Jeep, walked to the house and went in the back door, which led them into the massive kitchen.
And to his mother hovering while Lisa, their woman who did everything, was cooking.
This was something else that hit him as a surprise, like a shot.
His mom was just his mom. He’d always thought she was beautiful in a detached way any kid would think their mom was beautiful.
But as he took her in right then, he saw she really was something.
Tall, blonde, features that were classically attractive, she’d always been slender. Though the last year or so he’d noticed abstractedly that she’d been putting on weight, it looked good on her. It made her look healthier. Even more animated.
And in the moment of coming to this realization, Axl noted something else.
Her clothes were more casual than usual.
Hattie and he were dressed more formally than she was, something Axl hadn’t noticed his mother ever do “in company.” And they would consider the first visit with Hattie to be having company.
She was wearing pressed chinos, a crisp white Oxford shirt with the collar popped and a pair of neutral flats.
He knew the shoes were Louboutin, but unless someone recognized the style, or saw the lipstick-red sole, they wouldn’t.
What they weren’t were Chanel, his father’s preferred footwear (and accessories) for his mother.
And that was so much so, even Axl knew it. He couldn’t count how many times he’d heard his father say, “Rachel …no. You need to go back and put on the Chanel.”
There was something almost rebellious about those Louboutins.
And definitely the chinos.
“Sweetheart,” she greeted, moving direct to him while smiling at him, at the same time darting curious glances to Hattie.
“Ma,” he greeted back.
She arrived at him and did the mother thing with her hands on his shoulders. He put one to her waist and bent down for her to kiss his cheek.
He straightened and put a little pressure in his hand as he turned them to Hattie.
“Mom, this is Hattie Yates. Hattie, baby, this is my mom, Rachel Pantera.”
Hattie had a hand up and a smile on her face that did not look fake, but he could tell by the stiff line of her neck and shoulders that she was nervous.
“Mrs. Pantera, really lovely to meet you.”
“Hattie, please call me Rachel,” his mom invited, taking her hand then covering it with her other and holding it. “Nice to meet you too, and what an amazing dress. So effortless but so chic.”
“Wow, thank you, Mrs…. sorry, Rachel.”
Before Axl could introduce Hattie to Lisa, his father made his entrance.
“Did I hear … ?”
Axl tensed when he heard his dad’s booming courtroom voice.
“ … Axl’s Jeep?” The man appeared in the kitchen. “Yes! There’s m’boy.”
And then there was his father.
To make certain you didn’t miss how important he was, he hadn’t changed from work. His look gave the implication he’d just arrived home, shrugged off his suit jacket and pulled off his tie. But never fear, he’d arrived in the nick of time.