Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
The security system panel beside the door chirped, and our housekeeper, Julia, came in bearing a huge QVC box. “It’s your mother’s,” she announced, leaning over to place it on the floor. “I’ll try to remember to remind the UPS man. Again.”
“Thank you, Julia,” he called after her as she disappeared into the pantry. To me, he added, “I’m going for a run this evening, after it cools down some. I’ll take it to her then.”
“No, I’ll take it.” I pushed the remaining broccoli toward him and got up from the table. “I need to stretch my legs before I go back, and I’ve got twenty minutes left.”
The package wasn’t very heavy, so I assumed it was more clothes. I could take the woman to all sorts of expensive boutiques and high-end department stores, and she still ordered Denim & Co.
As I walked down the path toward the house, I saw Mom’s car parked outside the garage. I had time for a cup of coffee, if she had some on.
Who was I kidding? She always had some on.
My family had one of those no-boundaries policies regarding our houses. If the door was unlocked, we just walked right in. But, when I walked in, Mom was nowhere to be seen.
“Mom?” I called out, and she didn’t answer. She was probably on a walk or something. She’d gotten onto a weird health kick all of a sudden. It was pretty cool that she had hobbies now. I’d never thought of her as a hobbies kind of person, but maybe it was because she just never had time before. She’d even taken up knitting.
Since I knew the box held clothing, I jogged up the stairs to her bedroom. I’d just dump it on her bed so she would find it.
The moment the handle clicked open, someone, some male someone, shouted. I wish it would have registered before I’d opened the door fully. Then, I wouldn’t have seen my mother and some guy scrambling to take cover in rumpled bedding, limbs flashing everywhere. I dropped the box and covered my eyes, shrieking, “Mother!”
The guy yelled, “Ow, ow, my knee!” and I recognized his voice.
Oh. My. God.
“Tony?” I stamped my foot. “Mother, are you fucking our driver?”
“What? This isn’t Downton Abbey!” she huffed. She was out of breath. Oh, sick. “And you could have knocked!”
“Well, I’m sorry, I didn’t think to myself, ‘better have a care, Sophie, your mum could be getting railed by the chauffeur!’” Wait, why I was doing a British accent? Had Neil become the voice of my conscience or something? I would be so doomed.
“Nobody is getting ‘railed’ by anybody, Ms. Scaife,” Tony said, his Brooklyn-accented voice forceful but apologetic. “I know I’m breaching a lot of protocol here. But I love your mother. She’s a good woman, and I want to be with her. If you can’t employ me anymore, I’ll understand. But I’m not going to stop seeing Becky.”
“I…” I peeked out through my fingers before dropping my hand. They were by no means “decent”, but at least they were fully covered up now. This explains the knitting. “I don’t…”
What was I supposed to do? Fire him on the spot? He’d just move into the guesthouse with Mom, anyway, probably. Or maybe Mom would move out. And, as much as she drove me crazy, I really didn’t like the idea of that.
“I’m not going to fire you, Tony. I just…” Ugh, I had never been so uncomfortable in my life.
Well, except for one, eerily similar time.
“It’s just a shock to walk in on your mom in bed with some guy when you don’t even know she’s dating.” God, this really was like some hellish reverse of what had happened to Emma. “Look, I won’t… I’ll just call before I come over, okay?”
I backed slowly from the door. And I don’t know why I said, “Carry on.”
I couldn’t have left that house faster if it were on fire. Outside, I leaned over with my hands on my thighs like I had just been for a long run. All the blood rushed to my head, but there wasn’t enough in my entire body to produce the blush required for this situation.
When I burst through the kitchen door, Neil wasn’t there. I headed to his den, where he lounged on the brown leather sofa, flipping through channels on the television. He sat up when he saw the state I was in. “Sophie?”
“Something…” I gestured in the vague direction of the house. “Something really horrible…”
He moved to get to his feet, probably thinking that my mom had died suddenly or something.
I flapped my hands like I was patting the air. “No, no, it’s not an emergency, it’s…” I gulped down the painful lump in my throat. “It’s my mom. She was…uh…” My stomach churned. “She was in bed with Tony.”