Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“Timing is going to be a little tough,” I said, reaching for my phone in my back pocket. It wasn’t there. “Dang it,” I muttered, wondering where I might’ve set it down. “I’m leaving in a week, remember, and I have a list of things I need to do before I go. I’m sure I can squeeze it in, though. I just need to find my phone and then pull up my schedule so I can figure it out.”
“Of course. The second is that—”
A ringing phone growing in volume pulled my attention, because it was my ringtone. Jasper walked into the room a moment later, just as the ringing stopped. He held the phone out to me while nodding hello to Tristan.
“Found this in my bathroom,” he said. “The caller tried twice.”
“In your bathroom?” I asked.
“Yeah. What would I be doing in yours?”
“Well, what was I doing in—” The truth dawned on me, and I nodded. “Delivering towels, that’s right. Mr. Tom has been absent on and off all day running errands.”
“You don’t need to deliver my towels, Jessie. I know where the laundry room is.” He gave me a side-hug. “But I appreciate it.”
My phone started ringing again, and I tilted it up, seeing my ex-husband’s name.
“Tristan, do you mind if I—”
“Not at all.” He leaned forward for his book.
I swiped my finger across the screen.
“Hello?” I asked, crossing over into the seldom-used sitting room across the way for a little privacy.
“Jacinta,” came Matt’s stuffy, arrogant voice. “Yes, hello.”
“Hi, Matt, what’s up?”
“Jacinta, I had thought we were on the same page about the holiday plans. I don’t like hearing that they’ve been changed at a moment’s notice. Now, Jim—”
“Whoa, whoa.” I squeezed my eyes shut and waved my hand through the air, trying to make sense of him but having a hard time not being incredibly irritated by his tone. “What are you talking about? I haven’t changed any plans.”
He paused for a long moment. “I was hoping to have a reasonable discussion with you, not be interrupted and barked at.”
My hand tightened on the phone, but I paced a little, counting to ten.
“I apologize,” I said in an even tone. “But I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t changed any plans.”
“Jimmy was supposed to fly into LAX in three days, whereupon Camila would’ve picked him up, and we would’ve all seen you for—”
“Camila would’ve picked him up?” I asked, standing in front of a little table by the window. “He was excited for you to do it.”
His pause stretched again, and I didn’t have enough numbers to count to calm the irritation.
“Matt, look, I’m in the middle of something. Could you put in a new battery or something and get the words out a little faster?”
After another pause, I pulled the phone away from my face to make sure he hadn’t hung up. That was a usual occurrence when he thought I was being “difficult.” I was sure this was one of those occasions. He hated when I interrupted him for any reason, especially if it was to argue.
“Not that it is any of your business, but I have a meeting scheduled,” Matt finally said, his tone highly disapproving. “I planned to see him right after work.”
“Not any of my business? He’s my son, Matt, and it breaks my heart when you hurt him. He was looking forward to your making the effort. You never used to when he was younger, and he thought it meant you—”
“Jacinta, I didn’t call you to get into my work schedule,” he said tersely. “Camila is no longer working and has the time to devote to this. I do not. I do not want to speak of this any longer.”
I threw up my hand. “Great, fine, whatever. You do you, bro. But you called me about a supposed change in plans, and so far, you don’t want to talk about the only change that I know of.”
His words came slowly, as though he were talking to someone hard of thinking.
“Jimmy was supposed to come here, and you were to meet us for dinner at my house, not the other way around.”
“And that’s what’s still happening. I’ll see you on the twentieth. Or twenty-first, or whatever it is.”
“Christ,” he said, pulling the phone away. That meant he was very frustrated with me.
“I have the date somewhere. Calm down,” I said, rubbing my palm against my forehead. “It’s in my phone, which is next to my head. It’s fine. We’ll be there. All is well. No change in plans…”
The Porsche that Gerard the gargoyle had given me pulled up to the curb. Mr. Tom almost never drove it because it went too fast when he stomped on the gas. He couldn’t be talked into not stomping on the gas. I hadn’t understood why he’d wanted to take it today, but the answer to that question stepped out of the passenger seat. He had a look of wonder on his face and his hair was badly in need of a wash. His clothes were a little too small, rumpled, and probably sporting stains. His face turned toward the house, and through the window I saw his beaming smile.