Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“As you wish.” Burt nods and continues on his way.
I’ll be the bigger man. If Old Overton so much as spits on the ground before my home in Arlington, I will tear his fucking limbs apart, then shoot him in his bullocks.
3
Luxury
The day after the new year, while most New Yorkers revamp resolutions that were forgotten some time ago, I have carved out my own path. Smiling, I place a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, with a dash of extra sugar, on the counter in front of Dad. From his position at the breakfast nook, Dad stares intently, boring into my soul as I stroll to the Keurig.
After a few beats, he asks, “Did you finally sneak out last night?”
After all your not-so-subtle hints? “Yup. Saw the fireworks from on top of Lady Liberty, went to an afterparty, met a drummer of some random band . . .” I let the insinuation hang between us as I drop a hand onto my hip. “Dad, I promise you, I’m not allowing my life to pass me by like I’ve done since Momma died.”
“So, you’ve spoken with Vi—?”
“I haven’t seen him in over two months, which is longer than I knew him. We’re officially strangers. The cut-and-dried answer is a resounding no.”
“Lux, you’re so stubborn. Of all your momma’s beautiful traits, why not take Gina’s good nature too?”
Astonished by his statement, my hands raise into the air. “I took a reasonable amount of Momma’s compassion.”
“Reasonable, well, yes. You were at the soup kitchen where Gina always volunteered. It was compassionate of you to volunteer on Thanksgiving and Christmas morning, and you’ve gone once a week since October.”
“It’s been a humbling experience. Dad, let’s not deviate from the discussion. Victor is not the discussion. You’re concerned that your daughter has receded into her shell. Yes, I was horribly shy as a child. Yes, when Momma died, I placed all my energy, as well as my last dollar, into the flower shop. But the fact of the matter is, I’m leaving New York.”
Silence permeates the air between us, thinning it until I pant just to fill my lungs. “Is Florida still on the table?”
He nods. “I can conduct my research anywhere there’s a division of Greco.”
“Alright, you should have enough physical therapy under your belt by the time I sell Urban Gardens.”
“Sell?”
“Yes, Dad. I have an appointment with a realtor on Thursday. I’ve all the required requisites for a spring start date at the University of Fort Lauderdale. I need to finish my floral degree and grab a minor in business. If you’re still inclined to pay your daughter’s tuition,” I chew my lip pensively, “then I’ll have the money to reinvest into a new flower shop—the right way. No more rushing into things.”
Dad nods slowly. “I will always invest in my child.”
I pour his freshly brewed coffee into a World’s Greatest Dad mug. “Good, because when you’re too old to recall how salami sandwiches cause carotid arteries disease, your stocks will have paid off.”
“If I ever get too old to dissect a heart, put me out of my misery.”
Pitiful laughter bubbles out of me as I grab the creamer from the fridge. “Dr. Whitson, don’t you dare say those words. I’ll use every penny that I make from the sale to enroll at a college in sunny California.”
“There’s no Greco . . . oh.” He scrubs a hand through his Afro. “This blasted pain medication. Mind’s all clouded.”
A flicker of sympathy flashes in my eyes. “We’ll keep scaling down the meds. I’ll keep you posted on the sale. Do we have a deal?”
“Yeah. In a few weeks, I’ll reach out to the management team and secure my moving benefits package. Are you going to work today?”
I heft a shoulder. “I cut down the opening hours. You know . . . the place lost traction after that Russian guy.” I rest a hip on the stainless-steel countertop. God, how did I not recognize Victor for who he was? The Russian scared me witless. They were from the same assassination ring. “I’ll go in tomorrow. Take inventory of how many stuffed teddy bears we have, hock those suckers online for textbook money. Maybe eat the unsold Christmas chocolate candy. Should I bring you a chocolate ornament?”
After my father shakes his head, I start out of the room. I heave a sigh of relief.
You have a plan. Execute it, Luxxie.
I’ve strolled halfway upstairs when my cellphone vibrates. Fisting the iPhone in my hand, I glimpse the long string of numbers.
I answer with a curt, “Hey, Burt.”
“How are you certain Victor hadn’t recanted his promise?” His overly proper tone causes an involuntary half-smile to tip the side of my mouth.
Upon opening the bedroom door, I sweep inside and spin around until I’m leaning against it. “Of all his empty promises, this wasn’t one of them. He hasn’t called.”