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)
“Good thinking.”
“Let’s touch base next week—maybe Tuesday I can come over on my way home from work.”
“Can’t wait. Thanks so much, Joel. Have a great week.”
“Bye, Jules.” He hangs up, and I smile at him calling me Jules. He has that kind of personality where you feel like you know him already.
I hang up and slump onto the stool. I really wanted to get this house perfect as quickly as I could. I need more money, much more money.
I think for a moment. I wonder if I could get an extra shift a week at a nursing home. They are always looking for nurses. Hmm, that’s a good idea, actually.
I’ll make some calls today. I could squeeze in one shift a week, two some weeks.
Operation Hot Bitch is on. Don’t mess with me, world, because I will cut you.
I grab Barry’s leash, and he and I go out front. I’m so sore from running extra fast all week that I have to stretch a little extra. Being in a bitch mood sure does up the ante on my training schedule. I hold on to my mailbox and pull my foot back to my behind. I feel the stretch all the way through my quad. Henley’s garage door goes up.
I pretend not to look as he drives out in his Range Rover.
I glance at my watch. It’s 5:40 a.m.
Surely he doesn’t work a sixteen-hour day every single day.
He pulls onto the road and catches sight of me. He waves as he drives by as if we don’t even know each other, as if Saturday night didn’t even happen.
Did it?
Or was I just so high on his pheromones that I invented the entire thing in my head?
His car turns the corner, and I exhale heavily.
Ugh, I hate men.
“Juliet.” I hear Carol’s annoying voice from behind me, and I close my eyes.
Give me strength. Not now, Carol.
“Juliet,” she calls in her singsong voice. I turn toward her and fake a smile.
“Morning, Carol.”
“Hello, dear.” She comes bustling across the street. “What are you doing next weekend?”
Decapitating Henley James’s voodoo doll.
“Nothing much.” I smile. “Got to get going on my run.”
“Oh, that’s good, because I’ve taken the liberty and organized a little welcome-to-the-neighborhood party for you.”
“What?”
“Just the street family—we want to welcome you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
The king of the street already welcomed me on Saturday through his pants . . . with his dick.
“I wanted to give you a few weeks to settle in, and time has gotten away, but now it’s already organized. I’m going inside right now to print out the invitations.”
“I don’t want a fuss, Carol.”
“Nonsense.” She smiles. “You’re a part of the Kingston family now.”
Actually, Carol, I’m a dirty dry humper who has no shame.
“Five o’clock on Saturday afternoon on my front porch.”
Feeling like the biggest bitch in the world, I smile. She’s being so nice, and here I am dreading talking to her. What the hell is wrong with me? “Thank you, Carol.”
Suddenly I’m feeling all emotional, and I hug her. “You really don’t need to throw a party, though.”
“Nonsense.” She smiles into my shoulder. “Go run that marathon.”
“Okay.” I begin with a slow jog. “Have a nice day.”
My brother Liam smiles as he looks around the house. “I love it already.”
“Do you really?” I smile hopefully.
“Uh-huh, it’s perfect.” He holds open a rickety door and closes it. “You need to replace these hinges.”
“The interior designer has come up with a plan, and we’re doing up one room at a time. This room is first, so I guess we will get to it.”
“You’re paying an interior decorator?” He frowns. “Isn’t that shit expensive?”
“No, he’s not too bad. Charging me by the hour. But he does think it’s going to be between thirty to sixty thousand dollars to complete.”
“Fuck.” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“I’ve got an interview at a nursing home this week.”
“I thought you liked your job?”
“I do. This is a second job, just one or two shifts a week so I can try and save faster.”
“Don’t kill yourself for a house renovation. It’s not worth it.”
“It’s fine. I’m just going to stack my shifts at the hospital, and then on my days off, I’ll just do one shift at the nursing home. The money is really good.”
He nods. “Okay.”
“So, how did your date go?”
He exhales and flops back onto the couch. “Yeah, okay, I guess.”
I watch him for a moment. “So . . . I’m guessing from your reaction that you had dinner and went home alone.”
“No, we got busy.” He seems bored.
“And?”
He shrugs as if uninterested. “It was . . . mediocre at best.”
“Oh.”
I fall silent, unsure what to say. Liam’s girlfriend died in a car accident three years ago, and he’s never been quite the same. “Maybe you’re not ready yet, babe.”
“I don’t care anyway,” he lies. “I just needed to—”