Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
It was only a matter of time before Diane grinned over at me with a sparkle in her eyes.
“I heard our little girl was quite an auctioneer today.”
I felt Erica bristle next to me, doing an ok job to hide her fury under another swig of wine.
“She was an incredible auctioneer today,” I told the mother of the woman I loved. “She is quite a talent. Her natural calling, it would seem.”
That’s when Colin butted in with a scoff.
“You sound just like Dad used to, always going on about following your calling in life.” He paused. “Really it’s less about the credenzas and more about the credit control.”
I held my glass steady. “You really think accountancy is the best route for Faith?”
He nodded. “I think accountancy is the smart route for Faith. The sensible route for Faith. She can chase after fun little hobbies when she’s earned her staple income from her real job.”
“Your dad did alright from antiques,” I countered, and he laughed out loud.
“Dad did ok kidding himself that his collectibles meant something. We sold it all off as worthless when we cleared his house, and you know it. You were there.” He sighed. “So much money wasted. He could have done so much more with it.”
It was true that Bernard’s antiques had taken a nose dive in valuation before he passed away, but that hadn’t counted for much in his eyes. I remembered talking to him before he took the last turn in ill health, and he was still alive with love for those stunning pieces of furniture he’d valued so much.
Colin used to be right there alongside him, but his cynicism had grown so much.
“You know I like them, but you know as well as I do that antiques are always turbulent,” Colin said, interjecting a relevant point to my thoughts. “Careers are not. You know how excitable Faith gets about these auction shows. She’ll still be able to watch them, she’ll just have more of a steady career in front of her to thank me for down the line.”
Erica nodded along, clearly aware of how counter to my opinions Colin was talking.
“Faith should crunch the numbers,” she said. “Be the sensible girl enjoying a sensible career. Nothing too adventurous.”
I despised how both Diane and Colin nodded along with her. Despised how all of them wanted to mould her into a shape so nondescript when she was a creature so vibrant.
I cleared my throat. “She really did succeed today,” I told them. “She was such an individual at that podium, expressing herself so uniquely. It really did work for her. You saw it yourself, Colin. She was so herself.”
“Just another reason she needs guiding along the right road,” her father said. “Too much freedom and she tends to veer off on her own little path.”
“A great path, surely?” I asked, trying not to inject too much venom in my tone, and he managed a nod, but then a laugh.
He raised a fresh glass of wine to both Erica and me. “Maybe one day, you two will have a sunset baby, and you can see for yourself what you end up wanting for your little girl.”
Erica didn’t say a word, just swirled that wine in her glass. And it was strange, just how bristling she was. Burning up with so much unspoken, just fuck knows what.
I didn’t have a clue what to say either, just stared over dumbstruck at the implication that I would have a daughter with Erica Tate. She would be a black widow that would likely kill me once I’d knocked her up, if getting pregnant was seriously on her radar.
The thought almost made me retch.
“Your daughter has so much passion,” I insisted, pulling the conversation back to Faith. “It will be wasted if she doesn’t express it.”
It was Diane’s turn to pipe up next.
“Maybe she can express a whole load more of it before she settles down for university,” she said, and I raised an eyebrow in query. She turned to Colin to convey some thoughts before she continued, and he looked quite aware of where she was headed.
“There’s a cat sanctuary fundraiser happening right now,” she said, and I nodded a little, vaguely aware of it from the local newspaper.
“The volunteer sanctuary with charity programs for the city kids?”
“That’s it,” she said. “They’re doing loads over the next few months to get the initial building budget together.”
“Go on,” I pushed. “You think that could be an outlet for Faith?”
Her smile was a mother’s so loving of her daughter. It gave me another guilty pang in my ribs.
“Well, you know how she is about cats,” she said. “You are the one who got her Miss Tiddles, after all. If there is any way she could put some of her time into helping with a charity fundraiser, I think it would be a good thing. To keep her occupied.”