Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“You’ll never get away. Even if you manage to divorce him, the Crowley family is never going to let you leave. Do you really think Nolan’s going to invest all this time and money into you, only to let you run away? Think about it, Keely.”
My hands turn numb. She can’t be right. But she’s making sense. “We talked. We have a contract.”
“Written by his lawyer, I bet.”
“Yes, but—”
“God, Keely, how could you be so stupid?”
Anger floats in my stomach. “I’m not… I’m not stupid, Jams. I’m just desperate. We got into a fight, and—”
“You must be stupid and desperate if you married Nolan Crowley.” She gets to her feet. “Forget about my money. Actually, forget about me, Mrs. Crowley. I’m fine, okay? I’m just fine.”
“Wait, Jamila.” My head’s spinning. I feel like I’ve been slapped across the face and I don’t know why. “Hold on. Why are you so upset?”
“Because you’re burning your life to the ground without realizing it, and I can’t sit around and watch you melt down. Good luck, Keels.”
She turns and storms off. I watch her go, drumming my fingers on the table, not sure what the hell just happened. I feel empty, betrayed, left all over again. I thought we were going to make up, and instead it’s like she’s even further away.
All because I married him.
I want to write this conversation off. Except some of what she said wormed its way into my brain. Like why would Nolan let me go, really, after offering me so much money? The Crowleys are rich, but nobody’s wealth is unlimited.
But no, we have an agreement, and I have to believe he’ll honor it.
Five months.
Maybe shorter than that, if I’m willing to walk away from the money.
I want to go after her. I want to explain that this is about more than the shop, more than just me. It’s about the baby. It’s about a future.
But she doesn’t know I’m pregnant, and I don’t want to tell her. Not now, not after that.
I hunch over the bar, feeling more alone than I ever have in my life.
Chapter 22
Keely
Roger shows up at Bottle of Smoke after closing. I hug Ash goodbye, ignoring the look she gives me, and wave as Fulco and Bernie stick behind to close shop.
“Need a ride?” Roger asks, grinning as I get in the back.
“I guess he sent you.”
The old gangster heads toward Nolan’s house. “You’ll get used to it. He’s not so bad, you know.”
I want to tell him to go to hell, but instead curiosity gets the better of me. “How long have you worked for him?”
“Nearly eight years now.”
“And how is he? As a boss, I mean?”
Roger tilts his head to the side. “Fair,” he says after a pause. “But he’s got a temper. You don’t want to fuck with him when he’s angry.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I stare out the window, the city flashing past. “Does he do this often? Marry girls he barely knows?”
He laughs. “All the time.”
I glance over, frowning. A strange jealousy pings in my throat. “Really?”
“Not at all.” He grins at me in the rearview. “Honestly, you’re the first girl I’ve seen more than once.”
I slump back slightly. “That wasn’t funny.” But I’m trying to make sense of what he just told me.
Nolan’s not a saint. He hasn’t saved himself for me and I wouldn’t have expected him to. Except for the past eight years, he hasn’t been in a single long-term, committed relationship.
Until me.
Which doesn’t make sense. We were a one-night stand. A good one-night stand, but still, it was never meant to last.
Instead, he nudged me around until I ended up marrying him.
What’s the goal here? What’s his long-term game? Is it really as simple as what he says—he’s looking for meaning in this life?
I try one more question. “Does Nolan ever strike you as, I don’t know, particularly philosophical?”
Roger pulls the car over in front of the townhouse. “Nolan’s never struck me as a particularly deep-thinking man before. He likes pretty girls, good whiskey, and money. But that just described the majority of men.”
“Thanks, Roger. You’ve been so helpful.”
“Happy I can be of service.” I push open the door and he waves. “See you in the morning, kid.”
I sigh and head up to the door. I stand there awkwardly for a second, not sure if I knock or what, until the security system crackles to life. “It’s open. Come in.”
Nolan’s voice.
Always in control.
I head inside. The kitchen’s empty. I pour myself some water then go upstairs, taking it slow, until I reach the bedroom.
Nolan’s sitting up with his phone in his lap. A basketball game’s on TV, playing on mute. He’s clearly ignoring it. I pause, looking in at him, my heart suddenly racing into my throat.
This is my husband.
This is my bedroom.