Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Don’t worry about getting back to me hours later or whatever. You’re a busy man so I get it . . . plus I’m sure there are other women you need to entertain first. It’s all good!
I couldn’t help laughing at her email.
Other women? If only she knew I hadn’t slept with a woman since meeting her . . . and by sleeping with, I mean actual intercourse. I hadn’t felt the urge to sleep with a woman unless her first name started with a D and her last name with a K.
“What are you smiling about?” Camille asked from the other side of the kitchen. She sipped her wine as she looked from my phone to my eyes.
“Nothing.” I slid my phone into my back pocket. “Just an email.”
“Is it from that Giselle girl?” she asked, her nose scrunching with distaste.
“Hell no. I’m done with her.”
“Oh. Well, good, ’cause you know I don’t like her ass.”
I chuckled. “Trust me, Camille, you have made that abundantly clear.”
She smiled behind another sip of wine. “So, if it isn’t Giselle, who is it?”
I hesitated.
I wanted to tell Camille about Davina, but I knew my sister, and if Whitney had made a fuss about our situation at the rebranding party, I could only imagine what Camille would say in the privacy of her home.
“It’s just a woman I met at a party,” I told her, which was partly true. She was at the party, and I did bump into her at the fountain, only to discover a new side of her.
I’d noticed after my speech that Davina’s eyes were a little shinier than usual. Then she took off and left the ballroom altogether.
When she still hadn’t returned after ten minutes, I looked for her and found her sitting in front of that fountain.
She hadn’t noticed me when I first spotted her. It was clear she was crying, and I felt a twist in my chest and the sudden urge to hold her and comfort her somehow. It would’ve been inappropriate, though, so I just gave her a moment. When her crying had calmed, I’d shuffled a little louder through the grass so she could prepare for my “random” appearance.
“Oh, yeah. The party. Whitney said it was really nice.” Camille’s voice pulled me out of the memory. I watched as she refilled her wineglass. “You going to see Mama while you’re here?”
“I planned to stop by for a little.”
Camille nodded, then pursed her lips as she scanned the kitchen. Several seconds of silence passed, and while she casually sipped, I studied her. She was avoiding looking at me for some reason.
“What?” I finally asked.
Her eyes flickered to mine. “Nothing.” She stepped around me to sit at the dining table.
I took one of the chairs closest to hers and could see Eli and Jack in the living room, watching one of the Fast & Furious movies.
“You’re thinking about something. You’ve got that pensive look. What’s going on?”
Camille took a big gulp, swallowed it down, then said, “I think Mama has been seeing Dad.”
I froze.
Those were not the words I expected to hear.
Frowning, I sat back and shifted my attention to one of the windows. Half the sun was beneath the horizon, the sky an orangey pink.
“How do you know this?” I asked. A part of me didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to care.
“Last weekend I went to drop off a glass pitcher she’d been asking me to bring for her little margarita night with her book club friends. When I got there, I saw his car in the driveway. I only recognized his car because I saw it the night me and Whitney agreed to have dinner with him at that Italian restaurant, remember? Anyway, I didn’t go inside, just left the pitcher on the porch with a note . . . but why else would he have been there?”
I inhaled deeply, letting the frustrated breath collect in my chest before releasing it. “She promised she wouldn’t go back to him,” I muttered.
“She’s lonely, Deke. I mean, she has me, Eli, and Jack most weekends, but I can’t say I’m surprised if something is going on. And, you know, it seems Dad has turned a new leaf. When we saw him at the dinner, he said he’d been going to AA and he’s a coach for a youth basketball team at his church—”
I sniffed and pushed back in my chair so hard the legs scraped the floor. Jack and Eli twisted their necks to find the commotion.
“Declan,” Camille murmured evenly, her eyes hardening.
“I’m gonna head to my hotel,” I said when Jack and Eli looked away. I couldn’t sit here anymore. If I did, I’d blow the fuck up, and the last thing I wanted my nephew to see was his uncle getting angry.