Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“That means they all win. How can I let them win when that’s all they ever do?”
“You give them that choice, you know that, right? You know how to use the word ‘no,’ but when it comes to your father it’s a non-existent word in your mind.”
She’s so right. I know this. But it’s easier said than done. If I disobeyed him, I could ruin his career as well, and his career is what paid for my schooling and helped me become who I am today. I don’t have it in me to do that to him, even though I know he manipulates me into being something I’m not.
Even in my best attempts at rebelling against him I still somehow listen to everything he has to say.
And then we have Whiskey, what’s his real motive.
“I just don’t know his angle, and I really want to know why.”
“Well, it’s not your money. Clearly, Whiskey’s richer than you.”
“That he is.” His house and his lifestyle prove that.
Emma puts on her hat as we start to leave. “Beach day?” she asks, smiling while reaching for a bottle of wine to take with us.
“Yes, please.” Pulling open the door, Barry stands there, his hands in his pockets and a playful smile written all over his face.
“Oh, fuck, no! You go away, right now.” Emma shoos him, but he simply finds her amusing.
He looks to me. “Can you see the love, it’s so evident in her eyes.”
I reach for the bottle of wine from Emma’s hand before she throws it at him.
“Whiskey asks that you call him. Said he’s been trying to reach you all day.” Then he turns to Emma. “You and I have a date.”
“No, we don’t.” She slams the door in his face.
I wait for her to calm down as she walks back and forth, back and forth, until she stops and faces me after wearing a line in the carpet.
“I don’t like him. I hate that you’re in this position, and I wish I could remove you from it.” Emma’s hat that was originally on her head is now in her hands. She straightens up, puts it back on, reaches for the wine, and grabs the door handle. “Go! Go to his office, annoy him as much as you can today. I’m going to do some digging.” Then she opens the door to Barry, who’s still standing there. He smiles upon seeing her as she steps through the door, hooks her hand through his arm, and off they go.
Whiskey’s office is quiet. It’s the weekend, but his light is on, and I can hear him talking on the phone. Pushing the door open, I don’t even bother knocking as I barge in. He looks up from his computer and continues his conversation but stares at me. It’s business, but the way he speaks makes me think he’s talking directly to me.
I step over to the wall where a photograph of a man is hanging. He looks like Whiskey, except older.
“That’s my father. This was his business.”
“And what exactly is this business.” I cross my hands over my chest as I wait for him to answer.
“You didn’t google it?” he asks.
“Emma did, but the only conclusion she could come up with is that you’re rich.”
“You are rich,” he adds.
“True, so what makes you rich?”
“Bad men,” he says, and a shiver goes up my spine.
“How?”
I notice the phone is down on his desk, and he’s watching me, and not answering me.
“Are you close?” I ask, stepping away and over to his desk. My fingers run along the hard wood until they come to the corner.
“We were. He’s dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
Whiskey shrugs and closes something on his computer before he looks back up to me.
“You didn’t answer my calls. Again.”
“I was busy.”
“So, I heard.” He stands from his desk, and now that he does, he’s closer to me, only inches away. He leans in, so we are even closer, and I can smell his cologne. It’s a masculine scent mixed with something sweet. I like it. A lot.
“Your father called, asked what he needed to pay for.”
“Did he?” is all I manage to say back breathlessly.
“He did. I don’t want money from your father.”
“It’s not for you, it is for our wedding. It’s what a father does,” I argue back.
His lip lifts and he shakes his head. “No. I will be paying for it all. I won’t be taking one dime from that man.”
I heard his accent, it got thicker when he’s mad. I’ve never noticed it before.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asks, but just before I can tell him, the door opens, and heels click on his floor. I turn my head at the same time he does, and when I do, I see her. Blonde hair as white as the clouds in the sky. A dress—I try to not laugh, but I’m not all that successful—that’s so short I can almost see the color of her panties. And eyes so blue you’d think you were staring at a deep ocean.