Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
When he didn’t elaborate, I asked, “And you?”
He shrugged, but some of the joy was wiped from his face. I lifted my eyebrow in question, and he finally continued. “One of the few good days I spent with my dad was here. He and his pals came here a lot and when I was old enough, I was brought in like some male passage into adulthood, though I was only sixteen at the time. I got to taste beer and whiskey and even had a cigar until I puked my guts up. But it was fun.”
It was easy to see that he wished he had a better relationship with his dad. “That’s cool. Though promise me you won’t bring our son here at sixteen for the same thing.”
That turned his frown around. “I won’t because we’re having a girl.”
My jaw dropped. “How can you know that?”
He pointed a finger at his head. “It’s a girl. I know it.”
I would have said more, but food came out in courses of little bites and a pairing of drinks from still water to flavored sparkling water. It felt like he was possibly re-creating his experience with his dad. Our banter was going so well I didn’t want to change the mood by asking.
“I like the water,” I teased.
“That crisp flavor just does something,” he joked back.
“You could have had a beer or something.”
He shook his head. “What’s good for you is good for me.”
I felt the blush and counteracted it with a different question. “Are you going to tell me what it was like growing up in New York?” I asked after a bite of the most delicious lamb. Who would have thought I would have enjoyed lamb?
His expression changed, and I waited on pins and needles to hear his answer.
25
MATT
It was a loaded question. I didn’t want to put a damper on our lunch by talking about my life as a poor little rich boy. It would sound privileged in the worst way. Still, I needed her to know me. I was learning so much about her just today. One thing that drew me closer was her willingness to try something regardless of her fears. We had that in common.
“My life was easy, probably too easy. So much so, I made life difficult for me and mostly for my parents,” I answered.
She giggled and damn if I didn’t want to kiss that mouth of hers. “How so?”
“Well, I didn’t want to be rich. Especially after I’d heard my father complaining about those who worked for us. People who didn’t have what we did and just wanted a raise or something. He’d be drinking his thousand-dollar scotch, moaning to Mom that our housekeeper wanted a hundred-dollar-month raise. I hated him for that.”
She nodded, which gave me the go-ahead to release some pent-up anger toward the man. “What did you do?” she asked.
“I’d skip school and go to some city park where no one knew who I was or cared how much my parents were worth. Or so I thought. I’d play basketball or go to the skate parks with my board to feel as if I was just like everyone else.”
“Did you make friends?” she asked, with a twinkle of mirth in her eye.
“Yep. That was half the problem. We’d go into corner stores and well, my friends played the sticky fingers game. But I’d always leave last. I’d give the store shop person the money to cover whatever we took. That didn’t stop us from looking like criminals when we left running. We’d get caught by cops. They wouldn’t press charges because, yeah, it was all paid for. But we’d get in trouble for truancy.”
“Did your friends know you paid for the stuff?”
I shook my head. “We’d be in the back of a police car.”
“Same cop car.”
“Not in the end. When they found out where I lived, we were separated. But the cops never ratted me out to my friends.”
Some of the cops had been cool. Others had been harsh, and I did a lot of talking to make sure we were treated fairly. It was part of the reason that led me to join the FBI in the first place.
“What’s your favorite place in the city besides here?”
An easy question I fired off the answer to. “That would have to be this little hole-in-the-wall bar where I learned to play pool and drink like a man.” I laughed, thinking about it. “In fact, Lizzy used to tag along, and she still goes there, or did. It’s where she met Connor. Part of the reason I like him and didn’t kill him when I found out he was banging my sister. He and I are a lot alike.”
“Two rich guys who don’t want to be rich,” she said, but a tilt of her head suggested a question.