Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
He chuckles when I reach into the glovebox and pull out my binoculars. The polarized lenses help reduce the glare on the dark glass of the building but looking inside is still difficult.
“You could just go inside and say hi.”
I scoff. “And have her run out the back? I can’t risk losing her again. Don’t give me shit. You did this very same thing not too long ago.”
“And you said you didn’t love her.”
“I’m not saying it now.” I’m not going to tell him before I beg forgiveness and say those words to her, but yeah, love? I’m feeling that, hard, deep, and with every fucking molecule in my damn body.
“Don’t let her slip away, man. Every second that slips away is time you’ll never get back.” He speaks from experience, but it still hits me the wrong way.
“I wouldn’t have missed a thing if I knew where she was.”
He grunts in response as I keep my eyes on her. She’s smiling at customers despite wisps of her hair flying all over the place. The lunch rush has made her cheeks pink, but she looks happy, free.
I’m the catalyst for this whole mess. If I hadn’t come into her life and turned everything upside down, she could be lounging by her pool. It makes the idea of going to her seem like a bad idea. If she’s moving on, what right do I have to walk up to her and insist on being a part of her life?
When she runs her hand over her head, her smile slipping to reveal utter sadness, I make up my mind. The front she’s putting on for the sake of her job is fake, and although she may not want me in her life, I need to hear the words come from her pretty lips or I’ll never be able to move on myself.
After an hour of watching her, work pulls us away, and although I pull away from the curb reluctantly, I know where to find her, and I’m already formulating a plan to get her back.
I arrow toward Wren’s office the second my feet clear the elevator, Deacon’s chuckle scratching at my back as I walk away.
The computer nerd isn’t surprised to see me, handing over a red folder the second I step inside. The quiet office is a slap in the face, but Puff Daddy has been staying at his Nana’s house for a while.
“She’s been working at Paddy’s since two days after she handed you your ass.”
I flip through the thin file.
“Dr. visits?” I ask, my heart rate kicking up a thousand decibels when a smile spreads across his face. “Really?”
His face falls noticing the excitement I can’t seem to contain.
“She isn’t pregnant.”
Jesus, why do I feel like I’ve just lost her all over again?
“She had an appointment a couple days after you left New York, but it was scheduled, her yearly visit. She’s been on birth control for years. They did change her prescription now that she’s sexually active.”
I growl, the thought of her being active with anyone else making my blood boil, but there’s a hint of disappointment in his voice, like he knows what I took from her before walking away. He doesn’t have to feel that way because I’m mad at myself for it.
I walk out of his office, disappointed by the news he provided but still a little lighter on my feet than I was when I crawled out of bed this morning.
Remington Blair has been found, and I plan to never let her walk alone another day in her life, but that’s only if she wants me back.
Chapter 30
Remington
“Macy will cash you out whenever you’re ready,” I tell the couple at the corner table as I drop off their check. “No rush.”
They thank me, not meeting my eyes which I’ve learned is a sign that they don’t plan to tip very well. I’d stick around for whatever they deem my service worthy of but I’m dead on my feet having come in early today to cover another waitress’s shift.
Finding a job, as it turns out, was the easy part. Keeping it while learning how to please customers, not piss off the cook, and break as few dishes as possible has been the struggle, but after two weeks of working here, I think I’m finally finding my groove. Samuel, a guy with a no-nonsense haircut and a thick Irish accent has at least stopped sighing when I show up for my shifts, so that’s a positive.
My feet? They hate me and still aren’t used to the punishment I put them through every day. My bank account, a new one I started that isn’t linked in any way to my parents is growing, albeit slowly because the second I knew I could get out of that disgusting motel; I took the opportunity. I managed to get a good deal on a hotel with long-term rates just a few blocks from my job. My feet once again hate me for the short walk, but I’m saving money by not having to take a cab to get to work any longer. I’m sure my cute little BMW is either sitting in the garage unused or my parents sold it the second I walked away, if anything, for punishment since I’m sure they think I’ll come crawling back.