Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Sunshine,
I know you won’t let me be there when you make your five-star dreams come true. However, I’ll be waiting for the videos with you smiling.
Your biggest fan,
Brock
I facepalm, wishing I never had to look up again.
“You’re crazy if you throw that away!” Maisy says sharply.
“Just move aside, please.” I walk past her, grabbing a roll of tape and a pen from my desk.
“Pippa? What are you doing?”
“Dealing with yesterday’s gift and saving you some breath.”
I scratch out a few words on the back of the envelope and head for the front door, noticing the luggage Maisy left for the first time.
Ugh.
The suitcases are absolutely beautiful and he nailed my favorite color. My heart flips over when I see the flamingos.
Stay strong.
“See? I told you,” Maisy says, following me.
I don’t answer her as I tape today’s gift to the door and read over the words I scratched out one more time.
This is probably an unfamiliar concept for a man who never learned to take “no” for an answer, but I’m not for sale. You couldn’t send me away and you can’t buy me back.
With a reluctant sigh, I drag the luggage to the porch, too. I’m going to leave it there, even at the risk of someone from the street swiping it.
Maisy watches me in stunned silence.
When I walk back inside, she says, “Unbelievable. You’re really giving up Budapest? Pippa, think of the pierogies!”
“That’s Poland,” I say.
Not that it makes it any better.
I wish she’d never told him about my travel dreams.
He clearly listened. He remembered.
That stupid, stupid man.
Another day.
Another overbearing, totally outrageous bribe.
This time, it’s a ticket to Paris and a gift card to the Winthrope de Gaulle resort there.
“You should have just pointed him to the note I left and told him to scram,” I tell Maisy, trying not to sound angry.
“I did. He just didn’t care. I know you don’t want this...but here.”
She hands me another note, this time with no envelope.
Piper Renee,
I’m not stupid enough by half to try to buy your love.
Freeze me out as long as you want. It doesn’t mean I’ll ever forget you or stop trying to win you back.
And you really shouldn’t leave your luggage outside.
-Desperate
My hand crumples the note.
For a second, a voice screams shred it! but I just don’t have the strength.
I run into my room for a pen and come back, smoothing the paper against the wall and using it as a writing surface.
“Now what?” Maisy asks.
“What do you think? He needs to learn.”
Muttering to myself, I slash angry lines across the paper with the pen.
“So, um, I know you two are old hat, but if you want to fight there are faster ways,” Maisy tells me.
“I don’t need speed, Mais. I need him to get the point!”
I twist away and stare at what I’ve written.
Dear Desperate and Pathetic,
Keep sending outrageously expensive crap as long as you want. I don’t care if you escalate to fancy cars and golden elephants next. They’re not entering this house.
You’re so far off the mark you can’t even find the darts.
Money can’t fix everything.
-Annoyed
Hello, morning.
I wake up with a yawn, plodding to the door for Dad’s paper. I find three months’ worth of rare peaberry coffee packed and shipped overnight from Wired Cup farms, the roasting label marked for the Winthrope Lanai.
Pure torture.
Aaaand there’s another note.
“Jackass,” I swear, peeling it open so I can read and throw the stupid thing away.
Miss Disagreeable,
Here’s something to help you wake up.
And if you’ll tell me what you want, it’s yours.
Anything.
If money can’t buy it, I’ll find it. Just give me a goddamned chance.
-Stubborn Jackass
“You sad, strange donkey-man. At least you’re right about one thing,” I mutter to myself as I scratch out a reply and tape it back up.
Mr. Hee Haw,
If I have to tell you, it doesn’t matter.
Figure it out or better yet, don’t.
Leave. Me. Alone.
-Pissed
But no matter how frustrated and exhausted I am, the hits keep coming.
More tickets. This time an entire flipping booklet of them.
London, Montreal, Prague, Capetown, Bali, Auckland—oh, God, I’d die to see New Zealand if it was with anyone else on Earth—and my travel packages start coming tucked into large bouquets I can’t stomach throwing in the yard to wilt.
That ginormous dick.
Four more days of this crap, and I’m over it until the morning when Maisy screams like she’s stepped on a cobra. Maybe a whole nest of them.
“Pippa! Pippa! Pippaaaa!” She’s turning her lungs out.
Holy crap.
I come flying out and find her standing at the front door with—not Brock.
There’s an elderly Japanese man, and next to him, the biggest shock of my life.
A black-and-white penguin roughly waist high tilts his pointed beak up and looks at me with a soft squawk.
“May he come in for a minute? Special delivery,” the man explains. “Mr. Winthrope flew us in from Kyoto to deliver a message for Miss Renee. I am Takishido’s owner.”