Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
“I’m not going to score with any women smelling like old socks.” I flip the collar up and get a waft of the unpleasant smell again. Lord, have mercy. “Lo, I can’t wear this.”
“It’s perfect.” She dismisses me and heads to another rail, yanking a few more pieces out. “This and this.” She presents me with a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, which I’m guessing was white once-upon-a-time. Now she’s going too far.
“I have a white T-shirt.”
“Is it fitted?”
“Fitted? I don’t know. It’s a white T-shirt. A T-shirt is a T-shirt.”
“Wrong.” She dumps them on the counter and smiles at the man waiting to serve her. He looks as smelly as his shop. “We’ll take these.” Lo tosses me a satisfied look. “Oh.” Hurrying over to the window, she sings delightedly as she pulls something from the display. “What size shoe are you?”
I almost don’t want to tell her. “Eleven.”
“And these.” She holds up . . .
“What the fuck are they?” I ask, horrified. They’re tatty as hell.
“Converse.”
I drop my head back. “I don’t like Danny Lupo’s style.”
“Zuko.” Coming to me, she helps me get the stinky jacket off. “And he was the coolest kid in town.”
“I’m not a kid. I’m a forty-two-year-old man.” I take my suit jacket back and give it a quick sniff before slipping it back on. Shit, it’ll have to go to the dry cleaners. Me too, actually. This smell is embedding in my skin.
Lo’s eyebrows form perfect arches as she gazes up at me. “Only forty-two when it suits you.” Her head tilts, and I mimic it on narrowed eyes. “I’ll wash it all and drop it off to you tomorrow before the party. You’ll smell fresh as a daisy and you will most definitely score.” She goes to the counter and asks for a total, looking back at me. “Maybe she’ll even be over thirty.”
I make my way over to her, and though I’m pretty clueless as to what’s going on, I know one thing for certain. Lo is thriving. This is her thing. Old, smelly shit and being creative with it. I grab my wallet from my back pocket, the corner of my mouth lifting as she beams up at me. “How much?”
“One-twenty,” the smelly guy states, going to his old cash register.
My fingers pause on the notes in my wallet. “Sorry, how much?” I misheard. I must have.
“One-twenty, mister.”
“For a pile of old, smelly shit?” I ask incredulously.
“Luke.” Lo smacks my arm, but . . . come on. “It’s vintage,” she argues. “Worth every penny.”
I look at her like she’s crazy, because she bloody is. “You told me it didn’t pay,” I remind her, slamming the money on the counter. “And that’s why you got a real job.” Jesus, one hundred and twenty quid?
“I hadn’t got to the profit stage,” she grumbles, taking my bag full of stinky stuff. “Stop complaining. You’ll look hot.”
“I better get laid too,” I mutter under my breath, earning a nudge in the shoulder from her. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
We wander out and walk to the end of the street, reaching the point where Lo goes her way and I go mine. “I’ll call you tomorrow when I’ve customized your costume.” She lifts the bag on a grin, and something tells me that Lo is going to have the time of her life tonight. I don’t know whether to feel sad or happy for her. No, that’s not true. I do know what I feel. I feel sad, because I can now appreciate exactly what she gave up. I have no idea why she had to give up her dream, like most of her life circumstances, but it’s clear this is where she finds true joy. I’m also angry, because this was taken from her. Happiness was stolen from her.
“Okay.” I dip in my usual fashion and let her kiss my cheek before she wraps her arms around me and hugs the shit out of me, much tighter than she usually does. Lord, she really is excited about her project. “Have a good night,” I say.
“You too.” She dances off down the street, and I remain where I am for a few moments, just watching her. I’ve never seen her so animated. I like it. A lot. So what if I look like a total knob? At least Lo’s happy.
On an amused smile, I answer a call as I rip my eyes away from her distancing body and head in the other direction. I made that gorgeous, kooky woman happy. Extremely happy. Totally worth it.
Chapter Nine
After visiting Pops on Friday night, I decline Todd’s offer to go out on the town, as well as Amanda’s offer to not go out on the town. Work’s crazy, contracts flying in like nobody’s business, so Saturday morning in the office isn’t avoidable. I work my way through the prepared contracts from the legal team, signing them all off. By three o’clock, I haven’t heard from Lo, and I doubt very much I’ll make it home before I go to this ridiculous fancy dress party tonight. I grab my phone to call her, stalling when I pull her number up. And it occurs to me . . .