Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
The inside walls of the elevator are all mirrors, and the floor is a light gray marble. Pressing the lobby button, I hold my breath as the doors open, and then I put my hand on her lower back to usher her out. She hasn’t dropped Dylan’s hand, and if she wasn’t with Dylan, I wonder if she would try to make a run for it.
I watch as her eyes take in the room, and I wonder what she’s thinking. Turning left when we get off the elevator, I walk past the security desk. He spots me and stands, showing you the uniform of a black jacket and white shirt. “Good evening, Mr. Stone.”
“Hey, Bob.” I smile at him. There are a total of six security agents who work during the week. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
“It is,” he says, and I just walk toward the glass door past the big round marble table that holds a vase of flowers with four chairs. It’s the waiting area. You don’t get past security if you are not on the list.
“Does that guy block people?” Dylan asks when we walk outside, and the heat hits me right away.
“Yeah,” I say. “The restaurant is just on the corner,” I say, turning to walk toward it.
“Why?” Dylan asks me.
“Why what?” We walk in sync, but I feel her stiffness next to me.
“Why does he block people from seeing you?” I love that he is so curious. He is always asking questions and always trying to figure out puzzles.
“Well, you know I play hockey, right?” I ask, and he nods. “Well, sometimes I don’t play good, and then you have people who want to come tell me that. I don’t mind if they tell me at the restaurant, but I don’t want them coming to my door.”
“And you don’t want to hear it.” He nods his head. “I would do the same.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” I say. I don’t tell him it’s because people push their limits and just decide it’s okay to knock on your door to get you to sign a shirt or a stick. It’s amazing that I’m being paid to do what I love, but there are times and places for that, and my home isn’t one of them. It’s a piece of me that no one gets to see unless I want them in my space.
“Here we are,” I say, pulling open the door, and the smell of pizza hits you right away.
A hostess stand is located right in front with a blonde and a brunette standing behind it. One of them notices me right away and perks up. “Hi there,” I say. “A table for three in the back if possible.”
“Sure thing,” the blonde says and looks at her screen and talks to the brunette as they discuss where to sit us.
“It smells really, really good,” Dylan says, and I look at him and smile and then look at Caroline who now has her hands folded in front of her stomach.
“Wait until you try the pizza,” I tell Dylan, and then I hear my name being called.
“Look at this.” I turn and see Lara, the owner, come over to me, and I lean down to kiss both her cheeks. “You look too skinny,” she says, slapping my stomach. “We need to put some meat on those bones.”
I laugh and then look to my side. “Lara,” I say, smiling, “this is Dylan and Caroline. Guys, this is Lara. She owns this place.”
“Nice to meet you two,” she says and turns to the girls. “Give them the private room in the back.”
“Will do, Mrs. Cicionni,” the brunette says.
“What do you like to eat?” She looks at Dylan, smiling.
“Pizza and spaghetti,” he says and then smiles, putting up his finger. “With meatballs.”
Lara claps her hands together in joy. “Now this I can do,” she jokes with him, getting the menus from the girls and then smiling at them. “I’ll take them back there. Will you tell Tony that I need a special plate for Justin and his guests?”
“Sure thing,” the blonde says and walks to the back of the kitchen.
“Come with me,” she says. Dylan walks next to her, and I see Caroline shiver.
“Are you cold?” I ask, and she still doesn’t look at me. Instead, she just nods. We walk past the dining area full of high-top tables with steel stools. The outer walls are all windows, and then the wooden wall inside has all the signed jerseys from the team.
“Are you taking us to a secret room?” Dylan asks, his eyes going wide when she nods her head. “Mom, we are going to a secret room.”
She opens one of the doors in the hallway, and we are taken into one of the private dining rooms. This one has a round table in the middle set for eight people. “Sit,” she says, putting the menus on the table. “And I’ll be back with some wine and some juice?”