Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 156146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Dear Lord.
At this point, I did the only thing I could do.
I programmed Rix into my phone.
And said to Judge, Go back to work.
Finally, I gave my attention to Mi and drawled, “Impressed with the outfit you threw together to come in for unscheduled girl time.”
She swished her hips and her short zebra print skirt floated, beautifully paired with a mustard turtleneck I knew had no sleeves, with a baby blue cargo jacket over the top.
“This old thing?” she replied.
It wasn’t old, she bought it last week.
Call you tonight, baby, Judge texted.
I sent a gif of Marie from the Aristocats tucking herself into bed.
“Jocelyn will be here in fifteen minutes,” Mi announced. “When she gets here, let’s hit Joyride for lunch.”
My stomach decided I needed some Mexican street corn.
My heart decided I needed some unadulterated girl time with my bestie.
“Yes, let’s,” I agreed.
My phone signaled one more time.
From Judge.
God, you’re cute.
I wasn’t.
But he was for thinking that.
* * *
“It’s not my decision, it’s not Mi’s, it’s yours.”
It was late that evening.
I was wearing a pair of pink silk pajamas with red piping on my body and a hydrating mask on my face.
And Judge was in my ear.
“Do I think she should squirm a lot longer, yes,” he said, referring to Sasha, who we were discussing since I told him what Mi had said earlier. “But she’s not my sister and what she did, she didn’t do to me. It’s your call. It’s always been your call.”
“So if I made a date with her for brunch on Thursday before I came back down to Phoenix, you wouldn’t be upset?” I asked.
“Chloe, honey, you have to do what makes you feel right. If it’s gonna upset you to draw it out, or add stress, then sit down and talk to her.”
Interesting.
“You made it sound like you’d be disappointed if I did that. Let her off the hook too easily,” I noted.
“Babe, there is you and there is me. I met her at the New Year’s Eve party, and she seemed bubbly and nice. And I saw her yesterday, when she was neither. I don’t know her. And right now, I don’t care about her. I’m sorry, but not even a little. I care about you. So if confronted with her, am I gonna be a dick to her? No. Am I gonna be pissed at you that you do what you feel you need to do for you, her, your family? No. Am I gonna be wary around her and protective of you when it comes to her? Yes. Absolutely.”
I sat with that a second.
And then I said quietly, “I really like you, Judge Oakley.”
“I’m so fucking glad you do, Chloe Pierce, I could howl at the moon,” he said quietly back.
We each let the other have that.
And then Judge said, “Speaking of Thursday, if you’re thinking of staying longer, can you arrange for someone else to open up on Friday and spend the night then too?”
My heart fluttered at this opportunity and I didn’t even consider the possibility of telling it to behave.
More time with Judge.
Another night with him in his bed.
And hopefully, a lot more than a peck on the lips.
“It’s just that I spoke with both Duncan and Tom about our progress,” he continued. “They’re down to go over what we propose for the project, and if we do it, it’s gotta be ASAP. Your dad’s heading to Australia for the Open very soon.”
Damn.
He did color commentary for all the majors.
He’d mentioned that at dinner.
How had I forgotten?
“If you want to get it out of the way,” Judge carried on, “Thursday is a good time. But if you want me to try to get them up early, say, right after lunch so you can have brunch with your sister, then you can get home without having to drive at night, I can arrange that too.”
“Mi opens on Friday, so I’ll stay Thursday too, and we’ll do the meeting.”
“Awesome,” he said, his voice low and warm, that tone having nothing to do with the meeting with Dad and Bowie (I was definitely going to get more than a peck on the lips). “I’ll send you the finals of everything so you can approve it.”
“I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”
“Nothing’s perfect, baby, but we can give it the best we got.”
That was so true, I was ordering a coffee mug for him the next day with that on it.
Once that was out of the way, we talked about everything under the sun (or right then, the moon) and then we talked more.
Too late, both of us sleepy and barely holding to consciousness (something I deemed only slightly less romantic than making dinner attached), we had no choice but to bid adieu.
Judge’s phone call was what woke me the next day.
It was so much better than my alarm (which was classical music, so that’s saying something) it was not funny.