Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” she responds just as carefully. “I think you might be okay. Does this mean I can call you D now, too?”
“Ugh, not a chance.”
“Alright,” she replies and grins, flashing me her teeth. “How about D-Man?”
“No. Hard pass.” Considering all the other names that start with D, D-Man is probably getting off easy. Douchebag, dinky winky, dimple bottom, dorkus Darius, ditto Bradford, dastardly bastard, Dickface… The list is literally endless.
“Hmm.” She rests her chin on her hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.”
I’ve never heard such an ominous declaration in my life.
Chapter seven
Everleigh
“Please. Please come out and see the surprise I got.” I try an extra wide smile because that’s usually my convincing face.
I know I’m interrupting. Darius is sitting in his home office…err, I guess it’s his real office because he works from home and doesn’t usually go anywhere else. He’s not on his phone, and I caught him at a moment when he was obviously taking a break. He’s got his long legs crossed in front of him as he’s sitting in his desk chair with them out, and they go on for miles. He’s also rotating his arm, doing some kind of exercise, but he stops moving it when I lean against the doorframe.
It’s been a few days. I’ve kind of settled in and gotten used to having an insane amount of money in my bank account. I paid off all my family’s debt, paid off the mortgage on the little house and the outstanding bills, and even got Heather’s treatment plan squared away. I’ve settled in here too, not just in the house, but with myself. I was so out of sorts before. Now, I feel less that way, I guess. I’ve taken it upon myself to make a purchase. And I’ve had an idea. Actually, I had the idea before the purchase, and I made it happen.
Hans sits up a little straighter in the chair he was lounging in. He sets the book aside, but not before I see the title, and yeah, it’s definitely in German.
“Surprises are like mice," Darius mused. "They multiply fast, and no one likes having them. They poop everywhere, and they cause damage to electrical wires and chew through just about everything else.”
I gape at him. Dressed all in black, which is his usual color, he looks good. So, so good. His eyes are so intense as they rake over me, but they’re not cold or hard. Anyone else might say they’re dancing, but I know it’s just a trick of the light coming in from the office windows. There are lots of them here. A bank of four together on one side and three bigger ones side by side on the other wall. The furniture in here is tasteful and comfortable if it’s all leather and wood. The place looks truly like an office, with wooden filing cabinets, bookcases that actually have books on them that look like they’ve been read, and a large desk stacked up with piles of paperwork.
“No! No, surprises are good, not like mice. I mean, mice are really cute. And they’re a vital part of the food chain, so that has to count for something. Plus, you know, you could always get a cat. Like my mom and Heather. He did come back, by the way.”
Hans’ nostrils flare. He picks up his book and hides his face behind it. “Goonzilla,” he mutters.
My horror is immediate, and Darius sinks down a few inches in his chair. “You freaking told him that?” I mouth, whisper-screaming the words.
He shrugs like he’s not guilty when he’s so totally guilty. Either that or Hans was eavesdropping on our conversation at dinner the other night. I’m pretty sure it was Darius, though, because he looks like he just swallowed a stink bug, and it’s doing backflips in his esophagus, trying to make a reappearance.
I hang tight, waiting, and then finally, Darius makes a production of sighing and pushing back his chair. I think he’s been guilted into it now. He closes his laptop, grabs his phone off the desk, and slips it in his pocket. “Alright.” He pretends to be bored, but I can tell he’s not. This is probably the most excited he’s felt in ages. There’s also a good chance I’m giving myself too much credit here.
I’m basically a giant bundle of nerves because this is a surprise for him as much as it is for me, and when I say bundle of nerves, I mean that…you guessed it, my ass is going numb. This is a surprise, not a test. I hope he understands it that way and doesn’t get mad because I don’t want him to think I would intentionally hurt him. Other than still wanting to deliver a swift kick to his brother’s junk, I don’t have any bad feelings I’m holding against the Anderson family. I have been more than generously compensated for staying here, and after the rocky start that wasn’t really his fault, Darius has done everything in his power to make me feel comfortable, including promising me the use of his private jet to see my family.