Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
I peer through the curtains some more. “With her fucking Mercedes. So what? You have a fancy car and high heels. Big whoop. You can have him. He’s a giant dickhead.”
Barry sighs and gets up and leaves the room.
I march to the freezer and open it in a rush. “I need ice cream.”
I sit at my kitchen counter as I write myself a to-do list. I’m not wasting any time today. I’m getting straight to it.
I open the kitchen blinds and look out into the backyard; the sun is just coming up. I’ve been waiting for it to get light enough to be able to see where I’m going. “Let’s go, Barry.” I put his leash on, and he dances around all excited. Our morning run has become the highlight of both our days.
We walk out the front door. I lean on the mailbox and curl my foot up behind my bottom and hold it as I stretch my quad. I glance over to see that Vanessa’s car is gone.
Stop.
I don’t care what he does. Good for him.
I stretch my other leg and then put my headphones on and begin a slow jog up the road. I’ve been running for a few minutes when from the corner of my eye, I catch sight of something and glance over to see Henley drive past. He doesn’t slow down. He doesn’t try and talk to me, and I know it shouldn’t matter.
In fact, it doesn’t; I hate him.
Chloe walks back into my kitchen. “So . . . tell me?”
“Tell you what?” I roll my eyes. Just like I knew she would be, Chloe was here bright and early this morning to find out the gossip.
“What happened last night?” she asks.
“With what?”
“With Henley.” She screws up her face as if I’m stupid.
“Nothing.” I act casual as I go to the fridge. “Warren went over there and warned him to look after me, and Henley, being the dick that Henley is, thought it would be comical to mess with me.” I pass her a glass of water.
“It was pretty funny for us too.” She smiles.
“You think?” I mutter, unimpressed.
“I mean, when he started calling you puppy because of your doggy kink and then about going potty out back.”
“Don’t,” I cry as I put my hands over my eyes in horror. “Makes me embarrassed just thinking of it.”
“And the sleeping with his dad after dating his brother bit.” She laughs. “He’s fucking funny, if you ask me.”
“Oh hell, kill me.” I cringe. “What the hell made him think of that?”
“So afterward?” She smiles hopefully.
“Nothing.” I shrug. “He’s just my neighbor, and there is nothing there, and that’s the end of that.”
“Except it’s not.”
I need to defuse this situation and stop thinking and talking about stupid Henley James.
I picture him and Vanessa rolling around in the sheets last night, and I let out a deep sigh. “Believe me, it is.”
It’s Sunday afternoon, and Chloe and I stand back to look at the color patches on the wall.
“I mean, this white on the end looks fresh,” I say as I point to the paint sample.
“True”—she twists her lips—“but the cream looks warm and homey.”
“Also true.” I try to imagine how it’s going to look with the furnishings.
“So what style are we going for?” she asks.
“Like, expensive country.”
“Then the cream?”
“But I also love expensive Hamptons,” I add.
“Then the duck-egg blue.”
“But the outside of the house is going to be white.”
“Hmm.” Chloe thinks for a moment. “I feel like you should get an interior designer’s input. I mean, you don’t want to put all this work into it for it to look like shit.”
“Maybe.”
Henley
“Morning.” I step onto the crowded elevator and push the button before turning to face the doors.
11TH FLOOR
Silence hangs in the air as we rise. Monday-morning blues. Seems everyone has it today, not just me.
My mind goes back to the weekend and its turn of events.
The doors open, and I stride out and walk through the reception area.
“Good morning, Henley.” Jenny smiles.
“Morning, Jen.”
“Is everything all right?” she asks.
“Yes, why?”
“Blake called looking for you, said you were supposed to have a late breakfast with them but are now not answering your phone.”
“What?” I dig my phone out of my pocket.
DO NOT DISTURB.
“Fuck.” I flick off the Do Not Disturb button and call him as I walk into my office.
“Where are you?” he answers.
“Sorry, I forgot.” I shake my head in disgust and dump my briefcase on the desk.
“Since when do you forget anything?”
“Since now, okay,” I snap. “Shut up.”
“Just ordered your breakfast—get down here.”
I exhale heavily. “Fine.”
“You want a coffee?”
“They serving espresso martinis?”
He chuckles. “Good weekend?”
“The fucking best,” I mutter dryly. “See you soon.”
Juliet
I scroll through Google.
Martello Interior Design
Ariana Interior Design
Joel Marcel Interiors
I’m on my lunch break and trying to get my renovation project underway. I think Chloe is right—I do need a professional opinion.