Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Are you kidding me? That’s my biggest flaw! I over-concentrate on me. I jumped into this band stuff so I’d stop fixating on stupid social media nonsense twenty-four seven. The morning I woke up early to dress my cat in a pumpkin spice latte costume so I could claim original rights to the idea was the day I knew I had to make some changes. I obsessed over that outfit for Caprice, and she hates cat clothes.”
“The operative word is ‘obsess.’ Stop it. Let things flow naturally. And as for Oliver…” Gray paused at my brother’s high-pitched laughter and the sound of approaching footsteps. “You’re already doing the right thing. Just be there for him.”
I nodded, then darted my gaze toward the entry before lowering my voice. “Do you think I’m a good influence, though? Hanging out with me isn’t going to boost his cool quotient. I’m not putting myself down, I’m being realistic. I need to find him a sporty friend.”
“No, you don’t. You’re more than enough, Char. He adores you.”
“He’s nine. He doesn’t know any better. Poor kid.” I shook my head ruefully. “Well, I’m off. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck, buddy.”
I flung an imaginary cape over my shoulder and sashayed into the foyer to wrangle my kid brother and continue my quest to overcompensate and underdeliver. Why? Because no one in my family could ever do anything the easy way.
* * *
“You look dashing.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” Oliver grumbled unhappily from the back seat of my BMW.
I studied him in the rearview mirror at a traffic light and dammit, my heart cracked at the seams when he lifted the lenses to swipe a tear from his eye before staring out the window again.
“It means you look handsome. And very smart.”
“No, I don’t. I look like a turtle with speckles,” he griped.
I twisted sideways to look at Oliver just as the asshole behind me honked his horn. I stifled the urge to flip the other driver off before continuing east on Santa Monica Boulevard. A case of road rage wouldn’t help lift the somber mood in my car.
“Speckles or spectacles?” I asked gently.
“No offense, Charlie, but I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Can I take them off till I get home?”
“Sorry, Ol. You heard what the optometrist said.”
“Yeah, he said I have to look like a dork for the rest of my life.”
Okay, this wasn’t going well. I pursed my lips and tried to think of a positive spin that wouldn’t sound like bullshit to a nine-year-old. When I came up empty, I cranked Lady Gaga and sang along to “Shallow,” purposely missing the high notes to make him laugh.
He didn’t laugh. If ice cream didn’t work, I had to think of something else to cheer him up. I couldn’t drop him off at his mom’s, knowing there was a high chance he’d hole up in his room until he had to face his classmates at school tomorrow. Been there, done that. Not fun.
I found a parking space on Robertson and fed the meter while Oliver painstakingly clicked his seat belt off, then opened the car door. I kept my eye on him, glancing away briefly to check out the sidewalk traffic. This section of West Hollywood usually offered some interesting people-watching. I smiled at the gorgeous drag queen with long platinum hair and a neon-pink slinky dress passing by on Rollerblades. I lifted my hand to give a friendly wave but froze a moment later when I spotted a familiar figure on the corner.
What the hell was Ky doing here? And who was he talking to?
I adjusted my sunglasses and squinted at the pretty blonde. I didn’t recognize her. It wasn’t the girlfriend I’d met at Gray and Justin’s barbeque at the beginning of the month. I think her name was Lauren. They’d seemed more like buddies than a real couple, though. Maybe they’d broken up and he was seeing someone new. Although he didn’t look particularly amorous, I noted when Ky shook his head angrily and crossed his arms.
“Do you think they still have bubblegum ice cream?” Oliver asked.
“Uh…maybe,” I replied distractedly.
“Can I have a double scoop?”
“Yeah…um, sure.”
Oliver started down the street ahead of me but stopped abruptly and frowned when I didn’t follow right away. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, but maybe we should…slow down. You know…to build up our appetite. I’m not hungry yet and I bet you aren’t either. Let’s pop into that cute pet boutique across the street. We can find a new toy for Chester or—”
“I’m having a trauma day, Charlie. I don’t think delaying ice cream is a great idea for my health,” Oliver said, narrowing his eyes and setting his hands on his hips, so he really did look like a small version of me.
I forgot about Ky for a moment and busted up laughing. “Trauma?”