Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 72856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
But he was already gone.
Chapter 8
You’re a bitch. Your face is probably ugly, and you suck.
-Mia’s secret thoughts to bitchy customer service reps
Mia
“Come on, come on,” I said. “What’s taking so long?”
“Ma’am,” the secretary said through obviously clenched teeth. “I’ve already told you, we’re waiting for the home warranty company to get back to us. We can’t move forward until we get the precise amount that we’re allowed to spend.”
“My warranty place said they faxed the paperwork over this morning,” I explained.
The woman sighed.
“So now I’m sure you’re going to pull the ‘my son’s an infant and needs air’ card, aren’t you? I bet you don’t even have a son,” the vile woman said. “Not to mention it’s seventy-five degrees out. I’m sure it’s not even hot in your house. Just open a window, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I know.”
My eyes nearly crossed.
Closing my eyes, I tried to compose myself.
It didn’t work.
“Just as an FYI,” I said. “My son died two months ago. So no, I don’t have to worry about him being hot anymore,” my voice broke. “But thank you for reminding me of that. I appreciate it.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” the woman said. “But I still don’t have the answer you need yet. Give me a few more days.”
I calmly hung the phone up, barely letting my finger hover over the red ‘end’ button.
Then I gasped for air.
“Who was that you were talking to?” Tai’s calm voice said from behind me.
I jumped, startled.
Whipping around, I stared at Tai.
He was every bit as easy going as he’d looked the day before… as long as you didn’t look at his eyes.
I looked down at the clock, noting the time, and winced.
I’d been on hold or talking to that vile woman for over an hour and a half.
Which was the norm for me every time I called that woman lately…but still…I was in my fucking underwear for crying out loud.
“Oh!” I said, jumping up and turning the computer chair so the back was concealing my near nakedness. “It was someone from an air conditioning company.”
He scowled deeply.
“What company?” He asked.
Alarm bells started to go off in my brain.
“Jenner’s Heating and Air,” I said. “Why?”
He shook his head. “Nothing…I can see that you’re not ready… are you going to take much longer or do I need to come back?”
I shook my head and came out from behind my chair, forgetting, once again, that I was nearly naked.
His eyes automatically lowered to my exposed thighs, and he had the decency to look away.
“Sorry for just barging in,” he said. “But I heard you raise your voice, and I came in thinking something was wrong.”
Something was wrong. With my heart and my belly.
When he looked at me, he had the ability to make my heart skip beats and race.
I bit my lip and pointed at the couch.
“Have a seat. I’ll go get changed, and we can go. It won’t take me more than ten minutes, tops,” I promised.
He looked at me skeptically, purposefully keeping his eyes on my face rather than straying down.
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” he declared.
I stopped and turned until I was more fully facing him.
“You don’t think I can get ready in ten minutes?” I asked in surprise.
He shook his head.
“No woman I know is ever anywhere near the time she estimates she’ll be. But I’ll sit and wait like a good little boy,” he teased.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Put a timer on,” I said, pointing at him.
He raised a brow, but called my bluff as he pulled his phone out and pulled up the timer app.
“Go.”
I went.
Seven and a half minutes later I was exiting my room with my shoes in my hand and my socks half way on.
He looked at me in surprise, then looked down at his phone.
“Impressive,” he said.
I grinned.
“I’m a mom…was a mom.” I corrected. “I haven’t gone full out for a very long time. What you see is what you get,” I teased.
He frowned.
“You’ll always be a mom, honey,” he said softly.
My throat started to tighten.
“I know…thank you. It’s just…easier if I say I was a mom. Then they don’t ask questions about my son…it’s just easier,” I rambled, repeating it over and over again hoping that he would understand what I was trying to say.
“My sister was pregnant when she died,” he said softly.
I blinked and halted with one shoe on, and one shoe off.
“What?” I asked.
He nodded.
“She was pregnant. About six weeks or so…,” he said softly. “She’d have been such a good mom.”
I frowned.
“I wish I would’ve met her. Seems like you loved her a whole lot.”
“I did,” he confirmed. “You ready?”
I slipped on the other shoe in silence, picked up a present that’d been sitting on my desk for over a month, and walked to the door.