Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 60(@200wpm)___ 48(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 60(@200wpm)___ 48(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
Once we got onto the bridge, we stood and looked out at the water. The cool breeze felt good after the long walk.
“What about you? Where does your family live?”
“Bethesda. They still live in the same house I grew up in. My dad is an international attorney for Ritz-Carlton.”
“Really? You know what I’m going to ask next, right?”
“Yes, I’ve traveled to cool places,” Josh said. “But I don’t remember much of it. As soon as my sister got sick, we weren’t able to travel with him as much.”
“I’m sorry. It must have been hard for you if you were in Boston at the time.”
“It was. But my parents were very supportive. At one point Cora even guilted me into focusing on my school work so Mom and Dad had one less kid to worry about. That got my attention.”
“I’ll bet it did.”
“So I busted my ass and made them proud. My journalism graduate thesis was an exposé on how insurance companies use specific customer service training strategies to discourage customers from appealing denied claims.”
“Shit,” I said. “That’s kick ass. How did you get access to that information? No wonder you’re so damned good at what you do. You must be tenacious.”
I knew from watching his show he was the kind of reporter who didn’t stop until he got to the truth, but to think of him coming straight out of grad school with those chops was impressive.
“I got a job working at the insurance company that tried to deny one of Cora’s procedures. My dad fought it pretty easily since he’s a trained attorney, but he was pissed when he realized how easily other patient’s families would have fared against the big insurance company. After listening to him talk about all the customer service calls he’d gone through trying to get help on his appeal, I decided to look into it from the inside.”
“Holy fuck. And they hired you, knowing your degree was in journalism?”
He leaned his elbows on the cement railing of the bridge. “It wasn’t at the time. I had an undergrad degree in literature.”
“Ahh, the trickster,” I teased. “You lied your way behind enemy lines with your sneaky ninja ways.”
That big bright grin again. I couldn’t stand it. Before he could continue his story, I leaned in to kiss him on the mouth. My hands went to his chest and his slid around my back, pulling me closer to him.
“You’re a good kisser,” I murmured between touches of our mouths. “I could do this all day.”
“Get a room!” someone yelled from a passing car.
I felt my face flush with embarrassment at being called out but was thankful the shout was accompanied by laughter rather than a sneer.
“The guy has a point,” Josh said, nuzzling into my neck. I felt my balls tighten. “I’d be happy to get a room. As long as I can have you there with me.”
My heart thumped. Was this for real? We’d seriously only known each other for like two minutes.
Josh had slid a warm hand under my shirt onto the skin of my lower back. It felt amazing, and I didn’t want him to take it away.
“We’re almost to the cemetery,” I said in a rough voice. “One quick peek to say we did it, and then I’m taking you home with me.”
“Thank fuck,” he said before turning toward Virginia and pulling me along behind him. “I think it’s time I showed you just how fast I can run on this thing.”
4
JOSH
When we got to the cemetery, Cam led us to a specific section of headstones.
“Do you know someone buried here?” I asked quietly. There were several families dotted here and there around the pristine white grave markers, and the open expanse of perfectly ordered white grave markers held its usual air of solemnity and peace.
“A client,” he said just as softly. “She committed suicide four months after I met her.”
I could hear the emotion in his voice and wondered how such an outcome would have affected him. “I’m so sorry, Cam.”
He looked at me with a sad smile. “Me too. She was an incredible woman. A combat medic in the army.”
We stopped at the gravestone marked with her name. Honora Amory Tully. She’d only been thirty-one at the time of her death.
“She went by Tully,” Cam said. “And she could draw the hell out of an animé character.”
I turned to him, smiling at the sentiment in his voice. “Do you have any of her pieces in your studio?”
“Yeah. I’ll show you one when we get back to my place. Her wife let me hang onto it since it was an illustration of my dog, Gus.”
“Is her wife doing alright? Did Tully leave behind children too?”
“Jill is hanging in there. She has two kids from a previous marriage who are old enough to be good support to her. And Jill is still active duty also, which means the military community is there for her as well.”