Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 133855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
With his hand on the gate latch, he paused, an arrogant smirk ticking up like a threat at the corner of that plush mouth. “That so?”
I lifted my chin, still clutching his son’s hand. “Yes.”
He eyed me as if I were the enemy. “So, let me get this straight. I pay an ungodly amount of money for my son to come here, and you get to tell me when I can and cannot pick him up?”
“You’re paying for your child’s education, Sir, not for me to order you around.”
“Huh…would have been mistaken.”
My chin lifted higher. “It seems you are very, very mistaken.”
A war waged in the exchange. That same tension that had existed last night clear and present, his outright animosity unchanged. But there was something else lining it, too.
As if I’d gained some sort of power as we stared each other down.
“You’ve got to wait, Dad! I told you I got to get all the As, and you’re gonna ruin it by not followin’ the rules. Sheesh.”
Tessa giggled beside me.
One second later, the bell rang. It jarred me out of the trance the man held me under, my entire being jolted with the sound, as if time had been set to pause and it’d begun to speed to catch back up.
Children screeched their excitement and ran to grab their bags that were lined up against the wall.
“Please remain in your car tomorrow,” I called out, the words roughened shards as I reluctantly released Gage’s hand.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he returned, just as smug and cocky and infuriating as he’d been last night.
Gage went running that way, that giant backpack bouncing all over. He glanced at me, running backward for two steps, nothing but grins and belief. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back to see you tomorrow, Miss Murphy!”
When the child made it to him, Trent stretched out a hand for Gage to take.
For a flash, his entire demeanor shifted when he looked down at the child and the child smiled up at him.
Soft. Kind. Protective.
I had to be seeing things.
Then he turned to leave on those ridiculous boots, but not before he tossed out from over his shoulder, “See ya soon, Kitten.”
Anger rushed, my cheeks hot and my pulse wild and that irrational rage taking hold.
All mixed up with that feeling.
That impossibility.
They walked back to the Porsche, and I remained rooted to the spot as he helped Gage into the backseat and into a booster before he rounded the front of the car and slipped into the driver’s seat.
The man glared at me before he tossed his car back into drive and pulled from the curb.
Fingernails curled into my upper arm. “Holy shit, Eden Jasmine Murphy,” Tessa hissed. “What was that? And you better fess it up now, because I can already feel your denial coming on, and there is no denying whatever the heck that was.”
She waved a turbulent hand through the air as if she could capture that feeling.
Something unattainable but real.
“That?” I let my eyes follow the car that whipped out of the drive far too fast. “That was my new boss.”
Five
Eden
Life is a series of choices. Some are easier made than others. Some take days or weeks or even years of contemplation, while others are made in a split second. Some are destined to be mistakes and others are made of sound judgement and mind. Fueled by wisdom and foresight and discernment.
Black and white.
But sometimes?
Sometimes they are grayed. Blurred. Obscured in a hazy cloud of smoke.
Vapors and mist and uncertainty.
That’s exactly what it felt like as I slipped into the murky shadows of the hall outside the dressing room where I’d just placed my bag into a locker and pulled a clean apron over the jeans and tee I’d opted for as attire tonight.
I felt as if I were stepping into uncertainty.
Into a different world where I didn’t know the rules. Where I questioned the unsteady terrain on which I traveled.
Or maybe subconsciously I knew full well I was making a mistake by following this path. That I was begging for trouble.
Maybe I sensed it as a premonition as I edged down the confined passageway toward the kitchen. An omen that whipped and whirred through the dense, thickened air that held fast to the cramped quarters of the hall.
I was standing at a clear line where I had to make a choice. Keep moving forward or turn and run.
I supposed I was the fool who continued to edge toward that destiny.
I was almost to the turn that hooked into the kitchen when I felt the dark presence emerge from behind.
As if he’d felt me pass by his office.
Or maybe he’d just been watching.
Waiting.
The hunter who wanted to play with his prey before he went in for the kill.
My heart skittered and my flesh prickled, and I inhaled a shaky breath as I slowed and turned around.