Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Hey,” I say sweetly in my daddy’s-girl voice that I can’t seem to get rid of despite the fact I’m an adult.
Dad chuckles. “Seems like Lilly’s turned into a hockey nut.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah…she’s really taken to the sport now that she knows that’s her daddy’s job.”
“Listen,” my dad says in a swift change of subject. “I just wanted to let you know I got a call from Mr. Waller a few days ago.”
“Owen’s dad?” I ask in shock, even though I know it can’t be anyone else.
My dad nods. “He said he was extending the loan for six months.”
“Just like that?” I ask suspiciously.
“Just like that,” my dad confirms. “The attorney we hired is guiding us through the negotiations with the gas company that wants to purchase our property. It will probably take a few months to get it all done, but well before the six months is up. I just wanted you to know, honey, that we’re okay and you don’t need to worry about us.”
The smile that comes to my face feels good. Not forced, the way I had to do with Marek the other night, but genuinely warm and gracious. “I’m glad. That’s one stress off my plate.”
Of course, that leads to my father wanting to know all about my stresses. That leads to mom coming back onto the screen, both of them grilling me on how things are going with my job and between Marek and me. I give them the details on the job, but play it vague with Marek, telling them only what I’d just resolved myself to do.
I’ll focus on the good things we have, but keep my expectations for anything more to a realistic minimum. That should keep me safe.
Chapter 25
Marek
I keep my hand on Gracen’s back as we trail the maître d’ through the restaurant. As requested when I’d made the reservation the other day, the put us near the back in a semisecluded round booth. Gracen slides in and I follow her.
Gracen takes off a sparkly black shawl she’d been wearing over her bare arms as I accept the menus from the maître d’ and nod my understanding when he says our waiter will be with us soon.
I sit close enough to Gracen to feel her body heat, but with enough space I can turn to look at her during conversation. I hand the menu to her and she smiles.
Tonight is going perfectly. While my time during the season is limited, I’ve been working hard these last few weeks to spend some quality time with Gracen. Between work and Lilly and coming to my home games, she doesn’t have much time left to herself. The fact that she would choose to spend that free time with me doesn’t go unappreciated.
So tonight is about Gracen. I’d scored front-row seats to Avenue Q, which is one of Gracen’s favorite musicals. I’m not that big on theater and such, but tonight has brought back some great memories. Gracen was heavily into drama during high school, and actually had dreams and aspirations of being an actress. I’m not quite sure how she went from wanting to be an actress to becoming a nurse, because I wasn’t a part of her life at that point.
We’re capping off the evening with a late dinner at one of the best downtown restaurants that money can buy, and it’s a good thing I make lots of money. It helped in securing a plum table.
The waiter comes and we order drinks. A bourbon and club soda for me, a dirty martini for Gracen. After he leaves, I don’t bother looking at the menu. I’m prepared for this to be a very long meal where we’re just going to spend time together and talk. There hasn’t been a lot of that lately, and it’s a reminder of how rough my career can be on a relationship.
I turn to Gracen, putting my elbow on the table, my other hand skimming my fingers over the skin on her shoulder. She’s wearing a simple sleeveless black dress, and she shivers from the touch.
“Did you enjoy the show?” I ask her.
She smiles broadly, her perfect white teeth gleaming in the candlelight from the table. “It was amazing. It’s one of my favorites.”
“I remember,” I tell her, noting the way she blinks in surprise at that admission. I lean in to kiss her, and when I pull back, I give her a wink. “What? I paid attention to things, you know.”
“You used to hate coming to the plays and musicals I was in,” she reminds me with a chastising look.
“But I came,” I remind her with an unabashed smile.
Gracen laughs and reaches out to her water glass. As she takes a sip, I ask her, “Why did you become a nurse? You were really focused on the arts your first two years in college.”