Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Are your parents happy?” I ask Kate.
She blinks in surprise. “My parents?”
“I’ve met them once. They seemed happy.”
“Sure, they’re happy. Married thirty-two years next month, and they still act like they’re on their honeymoon.”
Thirty-two years of happiness.
I shift my gaze to Kennedy. “What about your parents? Happy?”
He gives me a questioning look but nods. “Yeah, they’re happy.”
I glance at Ian, who shrugs. “Everyone knows my parents aren’t in the picture, and my foster father’s longest relationship is with the Phillies. But if you’re after what I think you’re after—reassurance that a man and a woman can be happy together long-term—I can assure you that it’s absolutely possible for two people who love each other to make it work. It may not be easy. It’s terrifying as shit. But it’s possible.”
Kate pats Ian’s knee affectionately. “I can’t say I ever imagined the day when you’d play the role of love coach, but it’s an adorable look on you.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Ian is blushing just a little, but given my own predicament at the moment, I’m hardly one to give him shit.
“You know what I mean,” Ian grumbles. “I’m just saying Cannon should get over whatever moronic hang-ups he has about relationships.”
“What are your hang-ups?” Kennedy asks. “Just good old-fashioned male commitment phobia?”
“Something like that.”
My friends’ silence tells me my answer isn’t good enough.
I sigh. “Fine. My parents’ relationship is completely fucked up. It’d be one thing if they just got divorced, you know? Allowed each other to move on? Instead they just sort of accepted that their bullshit arrangement was as good as it gets.”
“Which led you to believe that that would be as good as it ever got for you?” Kate asks, sounding slightly disappointed in me.
I don’t bother to defend myself, because I’m disappointed, too. I’ve been an idiot and a coward, too foolish to see that my feelings for Sabrina aren’t terrifying because they’re wrong—they’re terrifying because they’re right.
She’s right. For me.
“What if I said no?” I ask. “What if I held her to the contract, told her not to go to the gala with Lanham?”
“You’d lose him as a client, but I don’t think that’s what you’re really asking,” Ian says.
“No, it’s not. I want to know if I still have a chance with her. To fix this.”
“You’re not going to find out by forcing her into anything with that damn contract,” Kennedy says.
Kate points to Kennedy without looking at him. “For once, the cyborg gets it right. You walked away when she was at her most vulnerable. You don’t get her back by making her go to the gala with you.”
“Well, I can’t let her go with some other guy.”
“Actually, that’s exactly what you do,” Ian says.
I’m already shaking my head. “If he takes Sabrina to the gala, I get his business, and she’ll think I want to get my cake and eat it, too, or whatever the hell that phrase is.”
“Where did that phrase come from?” Kennedy muses. “Marie Antoinette?”
“No, that’s let them eat cake,” Kate says. “I think have your cake and eat it, too is in reference—”
“Guys,” I interrupt. “A little help here?”
“Okay, okay, sorry,” Kate says. “I think I get where Ian’s going with this. You let Sabrina go to the gala with the hot billionaire . . .”
I wince. The mental picture of Sabrina on another guy’s arm makes me physically ill.
“And you turn down Lanham’s business,” Ian finishes.
I suck in a breath. I knew, on some level, where they were going with this, what has to be done. But I’m not going to say the prospect of losing out on Jarod Lanham doesn’t sting.
It’s just that the thought of losing Sabrina hurts more. A lot more.
“The Sams won’t like it,” I say.
“Nope,” Kennedy confirms. “They’ll be pissed.”
“Do you care?” Ian asks.
I meet his eyes. “I care. I just care about her more.”
“Do you love her?” Kate asks, going for broke.
Love.
It’s a word I’ve never really given much thought to, partially because I didn’t think it was for me. But mostly because . . .
I’ve been terrified. Still am, to be honest. But if anyone’s worth it, she is.
Instead of answering Kate’s question, I turn my attention to the guys. “Remember a few weeks back when we were taking about . . . What did you call it? The Cinderella complex?”
“The what now?” Kate asks.
“You know . . . when a woman puts on a fancy dress, goes to a dance, becomes determined to find her Prince Charming.”
She rolls her eyes. “Uh-huh. That’s us women, all right. It’s a wonder we can even manage to fit in the hunt for the prince, what with all the powdering of our noses.”
“Okay, but we picked Sabrina for your plan because we knew she’d be immune to the Cinderella complex,” Ian says, ignoring Kate.