Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Charli,” I say, cutting her off. “I was kind of planning to apologize. First, you screw things up by coming out and interrupting us waiting for you to come out. And now you have the nerve to try to out-sorry me? Do you mind?”
Her lips twitch and she adorably clasps her hands in front of her waist, nodding and waiting.
“Like I was saying,” I say. “I thought about all the excuses I could make. I thought about trying to convince you my actions made sense. But ultimately, I think all that matters is for you to know that I know I fucked up. I really, really fucked up, because being with you, even for as little time as we had, was easily the best thing that has ever happened to me. I should have never let anything come between us, and I did. If that means you can never forgive me, I understand, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. If you can forgive me, then I won’t deserve it, but I’ll spend every day trying to make it up to you.”
“Wow,” she says.
“Wow,” Margaret agrees from behind me in her scratchy, lifelong smoker voice. “If you don’t take him back, I will. God knows I’d never run out of panties if he was my man.”
“Um,” Charli says, leaning so she can see Margaret. “I’ll let you know when I decide, but you can’t have him yet.”
Charli’s eyes lift to mine, then fall to the bag of books by where I was sitting on the bench. “So are those the keepers or the ones that weren’t good enough for me?”
“These are the keepers. You want to see them?” I ask. I didn’t realize how excited I’d be to share these with her, but I am. I’ve spent the last few weeks thinking about almost nothing but making sure the books I select are right for her. I want this to make her happy. Really happy.
“I want to see how well you did. If there are any real stinkers in there, maybe I’ll have to think twice about forgiving you.”
I’m trying desperately to read her expression for signs of playfulness, but I can’t figure her out right now. She could be one hell of a poker player.
She flips open the top of my bag and starts pulling out books, checking the titles and making appreciative or contemplative noises.
Her eyebrows shoot up when she pulls out a romance book with nothing on the cover but some words and a big, yellow banana. The title is “His Banana” by Penelope Bloom. She laughs, and turns it toward me for me to see. “Really? You think this is what I want to read? What are you trying to imply, Jameson?”
I scratch the back of my neck and shrug, smiling a little. “I thought maybe if I tossed a few slightly dirty books in there, you might get all revved up and be unable to resist coming back to me. Actually, that one isn’t really as dirty as it looks. It’s funny, though. OCD boss and a klutz who gets a job working for him to expose a scandal, and–”
“You really read this?” she asks, looking surprised.
“I read all of those. For you,” I add, showing a lopsided smile.
She looks over my shoulder at the group of homeless people, who are far less raggedly dressed than they were a week ago. Buck is actually wearing a Gucci jacket. I decide I either need to start giving them less cash, or maybe I should set them up with some financial literacy classes if I’m going to keep padding their pockets. My companions all look hilariously nervous. They’re rooting for me, and I’m surprised by how much that realization means to me.
Charli finally breaks her serious act and smiles wide. “I love it. I love all of them.”
I let out a huge breath, but I know it’s not over yet. “One more thing,” I say. “I thought a lot about the nature of my fuck up and all the relationships I’ve screwed up before this. Of course, none of them really mattered to me or stuck with me except you, but I saw a common theme. I always put work first. I was never able to convince myself that a woman mattered more to me than my job, and that’s what I was about to do with you. So I wanted to make you an offer. If you want, I can help you self publish your book. I’ll walk you through every step of the process, teach you how to run advertisements, set you up with a cover artist–the whole nine yards. I’ll do it all for free and without attaching it to Gray Wolfe in any way.”
She eyes me. “Why would you do all that?”