Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
After I left the pavilion Saturday night, I couldn’t focus on my reports. I couldn’t sleep. That damn scent she wore had somehow made its way onto my clothes. Just a hint of it, but it stole my focus and made me hard. A late-night run through the neighborhood didn’t help. A cold shower didn’t help. Watching videos she’d posted on her socials made it worse. I know she’s self-partnering, not dating. I wasn’t lying when I told her I don’t want to disrupt the process she needs to go through.
I just like being around her. She makes me feel lighter. After all the anxiety and responsibility I’ve lived with for so long, “lighter” is an addictive feeling. I don’t have to date her to get to know her, to be around her. I’m disgusted by the compulsive way I replay in my head our interactions at dinner on Saturday, though. The way I turn over every word, looking for hidden meaning.
Maybe Cousin Eileen’s mediocre and cheese presents another opportunity.
“I had a great meal this weekend,” I offer, studying the report on the iPad in front of me.
“Oh, yeah?” Perri asks.
“It was the best meal I’ve had in a long time, actually.” I pick up a sheaf of papers from the stack she laid on my desk, considering it instead of meeting Perri’s eyes. “It was at an event. I wonder if they’d be available to cater the executive Christmas party?”
“Hey, it’s worth a shot.” Her smile is sly and delighted. “But you’d have to convince Delores.”
Which is how I find myself stopping Delores on her way out of our directors’ meeting that afternoon.
“Hey, Delores. Can I ask you something about the executive Christmas party?”
She studies me with one lifted brow. “What about it?”
“Hiring your cousin every year kind of smacks of nepotism.”
“Why do you care?” She starts down the hall and I match her steps. “Nothing matters to you except the bottom line.”
“It’s the principle of it,” I lie. “And have you eaten the food?”
“Oh, I have.” She grimaces. “It’s bad.”
“Well, why keep subjecting your highest-ranking employees to the worst food?”
Delores’s thick brows bend into a frown. “Why do I get the sense that you have something in mind for the Christmas party?”
“I mean,” I say with a casual shrug, “I did have a great meal at the Harvest Festival this weekend, and thought if we ever want to serve food that’s actually edible at the holiday party…”
“Who is it?” she glances at me, her eyes narrowing, assessing.
“Soledad.”
“You mean the wife of the man who stole over six million dollars from the company?”
“I mean the ex-wife who gave us the means to recover said six million dollars, yes.”
“Oh, my God.” She stops in the middle of the hall, catching my arm to stop me too. “You like her.” Her eyes are wide and shining with some mischievous mixture of shock and delight.
“So do you,” I say, casting a self-conscious glance toward the break room with the door open and employees heating up their lunches inside. “And would you keep your voice down?”
I start walking down the hall again, not waiting for or wanting Delores to join me, but she does, matching her pace to mine.
“You were the one going to bat for her when all that shit went down,” I remind her.
“I distinctly remember you always up at bat for her, and me cheering from the sidelines.”
“Look, she has to support her daughters alone. Edward left their lives in shambles, and she’s catering, decorating, and doing whatever she can to make money.”
“I know.” She sighs. “It’s crossed my mind more than once that she got hurt the most in that situation.”
“Exactly,” I say, pouncing on her compassion. “And considering how much she helped us, it’s kind of the least we can do.”
Delores examines me with X-ray vision, and I’m sure she sees through every excuse and half-truth I used in hopes of seeing Soledad again. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“That’s great.” I turn on my heel and start walking toward the elevator before I reveal something embarrassing.
“Oh, and Judah,” Delores calls from behind me.
I turn to face her, brows lifted and waiting. “Yeah?”
“It’s kind of cute.”
“What?” I ask cautiously.
“The crush you have on Soledad.”
I expel a harsh breath, roll my eyes, and stalk into the elevator as soon as it opens, but her guffaw chases me.
So much for not embarrassing myself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SOLEDAD
You guys ready?”
I look over at Lupe in the passenger seat and glance to the back, where Deja sits.
“I guess so.” Lupe pushes a chunk of fiery red hair behind her ear, eyes cast down to her lap.
“Lindee says Mrs. Garland has been really sick,” Deja offers from the back seat, her voice hushed. “Like from the chemo or whatever.”
“I remember that from when my mother had cancer,” I tell them. “It’s the worst. Exhausting. You don’t feel like doing anything.” I smile at them both. “That’s where we come in.”