Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Can you tell I didn’t shave?” I ask the woman looking back at me. Eyes shining. Curls popping. That matte pink lippie is on point. Brows, fleek-ish. And yoga has done her body good. I’ll never be the size I was before I had kids, and I’m fine with that. My health isn’t a number on the scale or on a tag in my jeans. I feel good about my body because it gets me through this life. I want to be around as long as possible to see my kids grow up, so I take care of it. I can’t remember when I last felt like this. I feel like…
“Myself.” I give the woman in the mirror a grin. “I feel like myself.”
My purse vibrates.
“Dammit.” I grab the phone and sure enough. “Hendrix, hey.”
“Where are you?” My friend’s husky voice holds an edge, but it always does. Her high-powered job and warp-speed life usually make her sound like she’s poised to pounce on anyone she’s talking to.
“Leaving Grits now. If I can ever get this dress zipped.” I press the phone between my ear and my shoulder and stretch to reach my back. “You already at Sky-Hi?”
“Yeah. Walking in now.”
“It’s just up the street. Be there in less than ten.”
“Okay. Bye.”
I turn my focus back to the zipper, which stubbornly stays put at the middle of my back.
Screw it.
I’ll ask the hostess to zip me up. I grab my stuff and leave the bathroom just as the outer office door opens and Josiah walks in. His glance skitters over me, starting with my curly hair and sliding to my bare toes.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were in here.” He strides over to the desk, opens a drawer, and retrieves a small stack of cards. “Granders wanted a business card.”
“People still actually use those?”
The powerful shoulders shrug in the confines of his well-tailored suit.
“Apparently he does. I’ll carve my name into a stone tablet if it means he’ll write us a good review. We could use the visibility.”
“Are things…”
I hesitate, unsure of where my question will lead. Josiah never pressured me when I couldn’t drag myself out of the black hole, when just opening my eyes and breathing felt like a chore. He shielded me from how bad things had gotten financially at the restaurant. We thought we’d have time to train, to settle, to grow. Instead we lost Byrdie, our linchpin, in the middle of the biggest transition our little business had ever experienced. It wasn’t until my fog started clearing that I realized how close we’d come to losing this place. To losing everything.
“Si, are we in trouble again? I can—”
“We’re good.” The hard, handsome cast of his features softens a little. “For real, business has never been better.”
“If I need to do more around here, I can adjust some stuff.”
“You’re where we need you most.” His reply is quiet but sure. His dark eyes, steady. “Knowing you’ve got the kids, their lessons, are serving on the PTA committees and keeping up with their grades, it’s freeing me up to focus here and make sure we’re all right. That we stay all right.”
Both kids struggled some after the divorce. Deja especially became increasingly defiant and her grades have suffered. With Josiah handling so much at the restaurant after Byrd died, we agreed I would focus more on home and giving them as much stability as possible.
“Well, if things change, let me know,” I say, forcing lightness into my voice, into the room. “Team Wade, right?”
That used to be our rallying cry when things got tough. Whatever needed doing, we did it together. A muscle in his jaw flexes, and he cuts his gaze away from mine to some point over my shoulder. Maybe to some point in the past, reliving the turmoil of the last few years like I do more often than I’d like to admit. His prolonged silence becomes smothering, and my breath shortens again.
“Anytime you want to be the one hauling Deja’s ungrateful ass to dance lessons,” I say wryly, hoping to dispel the heaviness that entered the room. “Lemme know. We can trade.”
He shifts his glance back to me and the distant look in his eyes fades. “I’d rather work day and night. You can have that.”
His full lips quirk at the corners, and I find myself smiling back. Josiah’s face is interesting enough to make handsome look mundane, though the man is undeniably fine. The kind of fine that makes you lose your train of thought midsentence and bite your lip. Gorgeous dark skin gleams, pulled taut over the high sculpted bones of his face. To be so controlled, nearly austere, there is something boundless about his presence. Standing here with him, that energy, an amalgamation of ambition and audacity and swagger, swirls around us in the office. It’s like being corked into a bottle with a typhoon.