Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
She laughs lightly. “On a scale of one to ten? Ten being ecstatic? Negative fifty thousand. No offense.”
“None taken. How upset would you be if our engagement fell through?”
She pauses for a long time. I almost think she’s gone, except I can still her someone whacking tennis balls in the background. “I wouldn’t be personally upset,” she says finally. “Although my father will be, and I suspect your father will be as well. What are you up to, Finley?”
“Stop calling me that,” I say, grimacing at my own weakness. Snapping at her right now isn’t going to help, and it doesn’t matter what she calls me.
“You’re in trouble, aren’t you? You’re about to do something stupid.” She sounds delighted. “I’m happy it’s you, you know, fucking this up. Instead of me.”
“Glad I can be of service then.”
“What’s the plan? Making a big scene? Some prepared speech?”
“Something like that. Look, I just called out of courtesy, all right? You’ll hear about it all soon enough, I’m sure. I just didn’t—” I stop myself, gritting my teeth.
“You didn’t want to hurt me,” she says softly. “Well, I guess you’re not a complete piece of shit after all. Maybe you would’ve made a decent husband, but I suppose we’ll never find out. Good luck with whatever you’re doing, Finn. Really, I mean it. Go with my blessing.”
“Thanks, Robin.”
She hangs up. I slump forward, leaning against the railing, staring down at my hands.
What the fuck am I doing right now?
I’m ruining my life, that’s what I’m doing, but I wasn’t lying to Dara. Marrying her is the best way to keep her safe, even if it’s the goddamn nuclear option. At least our child will be a Crowley, whatever that means once this is all done with, assuming my father doesn’t simply murder us both.
I’m reasonably sure he won’t. Mom would be livid.
One more call to make. There’s no turning back, not after speaking with the judge and with Robin. Everything is in motion, chugging along now, whether this is a good idea or not.
Shane answers instantly. “Sir?”
“Where is she?”
“In the park, sir, sitting at a bench. She’s just been walking around aimlessly. Sir.”
I cringe at the whole sir shit, but don’t correct him. Let the kid learn respect the hard way. “Send me your location.”
“Will do, but, uh—oh, shit, I think she spotted me. She’s staring right at me.” His voice drops softer. “She’s getting up. She’s coming over. Oh, no, she looks really mad.”
I grin huge. “Don’t tell me the girl made you, Shane.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I won’t let it happen again, I just—”
“Send me your location. I’ll be there shortly.” I hang up the phone, grinning to myself.
Looks like Dara can handle herself.
I text the family jeweler and make sure he’s ready to see me before heading out.
Chapter 17
Dara
“Don’t tell me he sent you to stalk me,” I say, glaring at the young man trying to hide behind a tree.
He comes out, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m sorry, miss, but—”
I hold up both my hands. “Oh, my god, please don’t call me miss. I’m Dara. Who are you?”
“Shane,” he says, glancing from side to side like he’s afraid someone might catch us talking. “And he only sent me to make sure you were safe, mi— sorry, uh, Dara.”
“Right, of course he did.” I glare at Shane a moment longer. He’s younger than I am, no older than nineteen or twenty. Pale, tall, thin, with freckles and shaggy brown hair. For a second, I’m tempted to send him away, but I doubt he’d even listen, and besides, this might be an opportunity. “Why don’t you walk with me, Shane?”
His eyes widen. “He, uh, didn’t say anything about, uh—”
“Come on, then, keep up. You think he’d be happy if you didn’t listen to me?” I have no clue, to be totally honest, but Shane considers for only a beat before falling in beside me.
Boston Commons isn’t too crowded. It’s a nice afternoon and there are people out lying on blankets, sitting on benches, talking in groups, jogging the paths, and all I want to do is get lost among them.
I keep thinking about Finn, about what he said back at his place, and trying to decide what in the world I’m going to do about him.
I was born with nothing. My dad worked in an automotive factory in our small Iowa town, and when they move it to Mexico, he got into roofing. Mom was a daycare teacher, which meant she brought home every single disease imaginable, and barely made eleven dollars an hour.
The life Finn leads, the world he’s from, the pure wealth that man’s involved in, that’s something I could only ever dream about.
And I want it for my child.
It seems crazy not to do this. Finn’s offering me a life of comfort in exchange for almost nothing. All I’d have to do is smile, play wife, and raise our child—which is what I planned on doing anyway, minus the wife and smiling bit.