Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
And over the years, despite what she’s witnessed and what she’s heard directly from my own mouth, Leonie never once bad-mouthed my parents. She may have had a pinched frown when she was angry on my behalf, or her eyes might have shone with sympathy when I was hurt, but the Blackwoods were her employers and she kept herself from censuring them to me.
Even to this day, despite the way they cut her loose so callously and then completely ignored her even though she was a member of our family for so many years, she never speaks ill of them.
Until now.
“Your mother said what?” Leonie had seethed on the way to the restaurant. Then she simpered with worry over Bailey. “That poor girl. She didn’t deserve that. Your mother always had a sharp tongue, and your sister could be very rude. I had the hardest time controlling her when she was growing up, but, then again, your mother had more of a hand in raising her than she did with you.”
That was true enough. My mom actually attempted some form of parenting with Marissa, but I expect that was more of a status thing. She loved to dress Marissa up in pretty things and show her off to the other trophy wives. As she got older, she treated Marissa like a younger sister and let her run practically wild.
I had to laugh at Leonie as we drove to the restaurant. For the first time I can remember, she went off on my parents because of their poor treatment of Bailey, a woman Leonie had never met. But no matter, Leonie already liked Bailey as much as I did, because I did. It was as simple as that.
“I’m glad to see you a bit nervous,” Leonie continues on, and I drag my gaze from the front of the restaurant back to the woman who is like my mom in all ways except giving actual birth to me.
“That’s your evil sense of humor, woman,” I say with a mock growl.
“You deserve it after the gray hairs you’ve given me over the years,” she retorts with a mischievous grin. Then her expression softens, and she murmurs, “Whatever this is with the woman I’ll meet tonight, I will say it’s long overdue. You deserve to have love.”
“Funny,” I drawl, giving her a pointed look. “Never seemed to be important to you.”
I’ve asked Leonie over the years why she never got married, and her answer was always simple. “I’ve never met the right person.”
I can’t ever remember her meeting anyone to be honest. At least not while I was growing up. She was just always around, seven days a week. She lived in a servants’ wing of our mansion, and she never seemed to have a personal life.
In more recent years, she’s had some male “friends” she’s met through the retirement communities she’s lived in while following me around, but nothing romantic.
At least not that she ever admitted to me.
“Oh my,” Leonie murmurs, and I see her looking past me toward the front of the restaurant. “Is that her?”
My head turns, and yeah… that’s Bailey walking our way.
Leonie swats my arm, whispering, “She’s stunning. Well done, young man. Well done.”
“Knock it off,” I mutter affectionately, then rise from my chair to greet Bailey as she approaches. She looks fantastic in a charcoal-gray wrap-around dress and matching knee-high boots. Hair pulled back in a low-hanging ponytail, she looks quite sophisticated, even though I know her to be a jeans and t-shirt kind of woman.
Which, frankly, I have gotten a whole new appreciation of that side of her.
Bailey looks as nervous as I feel, also knowing it’s a big deal I want her to meet Leonie. Her eyes lock onto mine with sort of a plea to not let her flub anything up. I give her an encouraging smile, putting my hands on her upper arms as I lean in to give her a quick kiss.
“You look amazing,” I murmur. Granted, she wore the same outfit at work today, but still… I haven’t seen her in two hours, and, well, she deserves to know I think she looks great.
Bailey smiles, then turns her attention to Leonie, who has also stood from her chair.
I make the introductions, and it is not a surprise to me when Leonie shuffles around the table to give Bailey a hug. Bailey is a warm-natured human being, and it’s no surprise either that she returns the hug with exuberance.
When they break apart, I move around the table to hold Leonie’s chair until she can settle back in. Bailey sits on her other side, so Leonie is in between us, and we’re facing each other.
The waiter materializes to take our drink orders. We chitchat—or rather, Leonie tells Bailey embarrassing stories about me growing up—and peruse the menu. After the drinks are delivered and our orders placed, Leonie starts to prod like any mother figure would.