Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
She muses, “I wonder if it’ll fit. It’s one of those flat ones so it might. Actually, the charging block probably won’t fit, so, um…”
“No, Mom, don’t go there. I’ll get it tomorrow.”
“Okay. We just pulled into the parking lot. Do you want me to leave it with a neighbor?”
I hear my father’s voice in the background. “Leave it alone, Daph. She’s probably stayin’ at her new boyfriend’s place tonight.”
My heart sinks. “Ray might be there. Besides, I’ll see you in the morning, anyway. I’m not gonna be back there tonight.”
Why did I just say that? Why did I say Ray’s name?
The phone goes dead silent for a minute. “You’re not broken up yet?”
“We are. Actually. In my mind at least. But… he’s staying at my place for another week so um…” I search for words. I have none. “It’s complicated. Just keep my phone cord. It’s okay. I’ll… I think Killian has one of those charging stations and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Are you staying in that apartment with Ray while he’s still there? Does he know about Killian?”
“Um, it’s…”
“Complicated?” Mom asks with a knowing voice.
“Can I call you tomorrow? Or just see you tomorrow? I haven’t eaten all day and we’re just about to eat, so…”
“Sure honey. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Call me if anything happens with Grampa. Okay?”
“No problem. We should be able to pick him up fairly early tomorrow, if all goes well.”
“Good. What a day.”
“No kidding.”
“Sorry your trip got cut short, Mom.”
“Me, too. But what can you do?”
“Yeah.”
“Family first. Anyway, go eat, Love you, honey.”
“Love you.”
“Hey Violet?” she says.
“Yeah?”
“I approve. From what I can tell so far,” she says in a whisper.
I can hear my father grumbling in the background.
“Um,” I start.
“Bye, sweetie!” She hangs up.
I bite my cheek. Shit. turn back around. Killian’s sitting there, waiting for me. He’s sipping his milkshake, but his eyes are on me.
As I sit, he unwraps his burger, so I do the same, putting the chicken tenders in the middle so we can share. His phone rings.
He shakes his head. “I have to take this. Please, eat. Don’t let it go cold. I’ll be back.”
38
Killian
Could this evening have any more interruptions?
I had my locks changed because I’d given Kenya a set of keys to get in because she’d meet me sometimes in the evenings when I worked late and it made sense logistically, not that it meant she had keys in the same sense as other men might give them out. Yes, she had keys, but I hadn’t invited her to leave a toothbrush. In fact, she tried to leave a toothbrush and a box of tampons and I threw them in the trash. More than once, prompting a fight that finally ended things.
Yes, there were those types of things in my bathroom now, but that was because I knew Violet would be staying with me.
For some reason, I justified it as different in my brain when I asked Patricia to stock my bathroom with anything a surprise female guest might need.
I’d changed my locks, yes, but of course I couldn’t change the lock to the building, which Kenya still had a key for, and that’s how she got in.
She handed the keys to me tonight at my request, a big pout on her face.
She tried to turn on the charm while Violet was inside, tried to tell me she had a lot of time to think about us, about what she wanted and didn’t want, and told me that she showed up with chocolate covered strawberries, wearing nothing but sexy lingerie under that coat because she wanted to make a grand gesture. With a bottle of top shelf booze.
“Is it too late for that?” she asked. “Do you want to get rid of her and spend the evening with me instead?”
“It is definitely too late for that,” I told her.
She pouted some more. And then she asked me to call her if things didn’t work out with Violet and me.
Kenya was a spoiled princess, far too much of a debutante and frankly too vanilla for me. Based on the conversation Wes recorded of Violet with Debbie with Violet’s coworker in that food court, and the timing of when Debbie came onto me, I knew it was Kenya that Debbie had heard talking about me in that nail salon.
Kenya’s long-term goals included joining a country club, lunch with the ladies, she didn’t want a career, and she was what I thought of as a professional husband-hunter. She wanted a guy with stacks of cash who would indulge in her every want. She wanted it in a way she’d barely have to reciprocate unless it was missionary sex on a Saturday night other than during the week she’d ovulate so that she could go about squeezing out a couple kids in order to secure alimony and child support when things went sour.