Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“It’s not like anyone knows who you are. And it’s way more interesting than telling some girl I’m an architect.”
“An architect is a good job, you fucking idiot!”
“Yeah, but it makes me look like boyfriend material.” He sat up in the middle of the living room, still holding his ribs. “A dick solicitor doesn’t.”
At times like that, I really questioned why I was friends with him.
I collapsed onto the sofa, then dragged an agitated hand through my hair. This needed to be fixed. Now. “Where’s your phone?”
“Dead.”
I glared across the room at him. “Go charge it.”
Theo staggered to his feet and swiped his phone from the coffee table. “Has anyone told you that you have anger problems?”
“I will punch you in the face, Theo.”
He pointed at me with widened eyes. “See. Angry.” Then he shielded his face like he’d expected me to chuck something at him from across the room.
“Just plug in your damn phone.”
He went to the charging dock on the island and hooked up his phone. “Okay, I’m turning it on…”
I dug my phone from my pocket and tossed it to him. “Get Blake’s number, call her, and explain what an idiot you are.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
BLAKE
Jethro Wright’s Urinal Museum—just where I’d wanted to spend the day after I’d had my heart broken.
Text messages had pinged my phone all morning, but I’d refused to read any of them. I didn’t want to deal with Vance until I was back in New York and could handle the situation face to face. Maybe it had been wrong for me to have been so blunt the night before. Maybe I should have responded with a simple. Sure. See you when I get back. But what was the point of lying?
“And the original owner was considered the ‘King of the Urinal.’” Shelby, the brown-headed, pigtailed tour guide dressed like Dorothy Gale, said with a lot of enthusiasm.
Shoving the thoughts of Vance into my back pocket, I glanced at the wall of bedazzled pee catchers. “That’s really… extraordinary.” And fucking weird. At least I could see a reason for the Lunchbox Museum. People collected those. People didn’t urinate in them…
I snapped a picture of a urinal painted to look like an upside-down Little Mermaid—and yes, the drain was her open mouth. Now, all I had to figure out was how to write an article convincing people why they should drive down a rural county road surrounded by cornfields to see two thousand bedazzled man toilets.
Shelby led me past a porcelain Yoda and into the gift shop.
Urinal-shaped plushies decorated the shelves alongside coffee mugs with the saying, “Never pass up an opportunity to pee.”
I moseyed over to the magnet selection on the side of the register and took one shaped like a urinal cake. It wasn’t food, but at least it had a food-like name—somewhat keeping with mine and Dad’s tradition.
The young girl behind the register gave me a weird look when I placed it on the check-out counter. Maybe no one had ever bought a urinal magnet before. Who really would? “I hate to ask you this.” She bagged the magnet and passed it over while I paid. “But you’re Adrenaline Boner Girl, aren’t you?”
Restraining the urge I had to facepalm myself, I muttered, “Yes,” then agreed to take a selfie with her.
It wouldn’t have been half as bad had I’d received royalties from those damn videos and ring tones… and not having had my heart broken would have helped, too.
After I left the urinal museum, I drove the rental to the airport. Two interconnecting flights later, I was back in New York getting serenaded by the jolliest female cab driver I’d ever met on my way to Mr. Chang’s.
The greasy smell of stir-fry smacked me in the face when I stepped into the restaurant, but it did little to soothe my aching soul. Because now all that smell did was remind me of planning to blackmail Vance. And being reminded of Vance hurt.
I rounded the algae-covered aquarium, dropped my carry-on to the floor, then sank to mine and Margot’s usual booth and shot off a text to let her know I’d arrived early. My phone immediately pinged.
I can’t tell you why, but… I’m sorry. Don’t hate me.
If you bail on me in my lowest moment for Rent-a-Poo guy!
Just then, a bouquet of red roses landed on the grease-slicked table.
“Why do you think this was a mistake?”
I glanced from my phone to Vance standing at the end of the booth. If Margot had any part in this, I swore I would disown her for at least seven weeks.
I took in his sharp jaw and perfect lips. Those deep-green eyes had held so much promise for a happily ever after. When warm tears pricked my eyes, I fought them back. “Because it was.” I refused to let him see I’d been the stupid girl who had fallen too hard and too fast.