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)
His eyes slowly open, and he looks at my terrible state with a tired gaze. And he swallows, opening his arms to me. “Come here,” he says quietly, helping me crawl carefully into his side. He hugs me weakly, kissing the back of my head as my tears continue to roll. “Of course we’ll be okay.”
But for the first time since I’ve known Billy, I don’t believe him.
Part Two
Chapter Three
London 2017 – Two Years Later
“Are you coming for a drink, Lo?”
I turn at the revolving door as I wrap my scarf around my neck, finding Scarlett sitting on one of the couches in our reception area, slipping on some strappy shoes. The woman, my boss, makes me feel dowdy every day of my working life. She’s just about as perfect as a female could be—tall, leggy, well-dressed, successful, and the life and soul of any party. And brave. Because those heels in this biting cold? If I didn’t admire her so much, I’d hate her. “Thanks for the offer, Scarlett, but I really need to get home.”
She pouts, but I don’t miss the wave of sympathy that glides across her flawless face as she stands and throws her cashmere shawl across her shoulders and collects her Mulberry. “Okay. See you bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“Bright and early,” I confirm, as if she needs any confirmation. In the two years I’ve been Scarlett’s PA at her media firm, I’ve never once been late. Promptness and reliability are two of my best-known qualities. I wish they weren’t. I wish a whole host of other traits could be what I’m best known for. Beauty. Success. Ambition. But, alas, I am simply the girl in the office who everyone can depend on. My days humming the time away in my lovely little vintage shop are long gone. It didn’t provide enough income. It was another huge loss when I gave it up, on top of so many other huge losses.
Pushing my way into the dark evening air, I shiver and pull the collar of my old faux fur coat up around my ears. I watch as many of the staff from my building hustle toward the Tube station, envying them, as they will soon be down in the warm bowels of London. I, however, will brave the chill and walk home.
I start toward the crossing that’ll take me onto Shaftsbury Avenue.
“Hey, Lo.” Matthew falls into stride beside me, his shoulders brushing his earlobes in a hunched-up attempt to protect himself from the freezing air. “Jumping on the bus?”
I smile tightly at him, noticing his old-fashioned glasses are askew. With his floppy hair, that’s well overdue for a cut, and his freckled face, he looks so completely like the geek he is. In his fifties, single, and the brainbox tech guy at Scarlett’s firm Red Well. If there’s anything he doesn’t know about IT, then it isn’t worth knowing. “I feel like a walk,” I say, pushing the button at the pedestrian crossing.
“Are you insane?” He stops with me, his face bunching in horror. “You’ll be an icicle by the time you get home. It must be four miles, at least.” Pointing to the bus stop, he links arms with me. “Come on.”
“No, Matthew, honestly.” I gently but firmly wriggle my way from his hold. “I want to walk.” What can I say? That I’m broke? That my bank won’t allow me to go anymore overdrawn than I already am? That I really can’t afford the measly few pounds for a bus fare? It’s payday tomorrow, something that usually puts a smile on people’s faces. Not mine. My wages will barely cover my overdraft, and that’s before I pay the rent and the bills. “I have a terrible headache. A brisk walk and fresh air will clear it.”
“You mean artic air, right?” He shakes his head and backs away. “Have fun.” His quip makes me smile slightly.
“See you tomorrow.” I hurry across the road, trying not to feel too deflated by the fact that my day’s work is finished, but my night shift has only just begun.
My bloody toes are like ice cubes by the time I make it to my front door. Looking up at the old townhouse, I wonder how long it’ll be before I can no longer keep up with the rent and upkeep. I’m literally hanging on by my teeth. On a sigh weighed down with hopelessness, I worry the key into the lock and let myself inside. Placing my bag on the table in the entrance hall, I wriggle out of my coat, listening for the pitter-patter of paws to hit the wooden floor. When they eventually come, I smile, taking some comfort from the familiar sound that always welcomes me home.
“Hey, boy.” I crouch to let Boris trample all over my lap. His excited panting and the whipping of his tail back and forth turns my smile into a light chuckle. I rough up his ears and give him all the fuss he’s used to. “You hungry?” I ask him, dipping and kissing his furry head before pushing him down from my lap and standing.