Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“Never apologize to me, girl.”
“But I know Jeopardy is your thing. The traffic here was incomprehensible. Had I known it would’ve taken so long . . .”
“It’s no matter. We apparently are discussing business this evening. But the next time you come around these parts at this time, I’m enjoying my kettle corn.” He gestures to the discarded popcorn. God, he really would’ve made a great grandpa. I could imagine the three of us in the past, like when I imagined that he was my dad. Momma would be baking cookies from scratch, and I’d distract her while Uncle Red snuck a few popped kernels into the dough just to irritate her.
Yeah, the perfect grandpa.
Our children would be laughing . . .
And . . .
The fuzzy moment disintegrates. It takes a moment for me to recall Uncle Red’s last statement. I glance across the room, and the bags of kettle corn are a welcomed cue.
“Please do,” I finally say. This time I’m complacent while working at the light, airy laughter we once knew. Uncle Red deserves it as the last time we were together, I had a gun.
I realize Uncle Red has considered our last in-person encounter as well because the smile no longer touches his eyes. He replies, “Good. I will say, I expected you to be too busy—studying, having a social life, submitting to illegal hazing activities while at NYU. But you’ve been busier since taking up with certain company.”
“Vic,” I allow my mouth to tip at one side. “Burt’s his . . .”
“Butler. I’m aware. The billionaire and his butler had designs to hack into my technology and find me a while back, not the other way around.” There’s no hint of animosity toward Burt for his association.
Still, the elder in the room says, “My apologies, Dr. Everhart.”
“None taken. But I will also note that I’ve seen a billboard of Urban Garden’s expanding from Brooklyn to Manhattan. So, I’ll acknowledge there’s some good in the company you keep. Still, something’s wrong. Is it him?” His face clouds the same way it would when I complained about being tormented due to my freckles as a child.
My eyebrow rises. The part of me that will always see Uncle Red as a second father desperately asks, “You hate, Vic?”
He leans forward in his seat. “Well, we weren’t formally introduced. You came over to my laboratory with Victor’s gun. I didn’t trust him. As you may know, I hired him for another reason than to seduce my beautiful Luxxie.”
The thought of death sends me squirming in my seat, and not for the obvious reason. No, I’m not shocked that my pseudo dad put a hit out on my actual dad. I’m not even mad. I’m fixated on Victor.
Where are you, Vic?
My heart feels a tug of disbelief, yet I haven’t succumbed to the total sting of devastation.
Vic is alive. I know it.
Uncle Red seems to misinterpret my hesitation. But after some contemplation, I realize that the shame masking his face stems from how he’d paid for my father’s assassination. He clears his throat and says, “I didn’t take a good hunk of my savings to put a hit on Jonah because of the fire, Luxxie. I did it because of Gina. I-I knew your father . . . did it. And so, I spent months wrestling with allowing God to vindicate her. When my heart couldn’t fathom forgiveness, I initiated the next step.”
Yeah, my father’s assassination. Suddenly, I’m tugged in a million directions like putty. But something in me can’t hate on Uncle Red. Hell, he could’ve sought justice years ago, for himself. The loss of Momma was the last step. I can’t imagine what Uncle Red is going through, and I never want to.
Again, my thoughts send me spiraling because of Victor. I will not endure what Uncle Red has. Vic will return. I glance at both the important pillars in my life and square my shoulders. Get back to friggen reality, Lux. I tell myself that Uncle Red’s actions might hurt at a later time, but for now, being strong is imperative. I clear my throat. “So, can we all start over?”
“I’d like that,” Burt nods.
“I agree.” Uncle Red runs a hand over the scarring on his face saying, “I thought that’s what Victor wanted a while back.”
“How so?” I ask.
“We spoke the other day.”
“When?” Blood pumps my heart in overtime.
Uncle Red’s brows pinch. “Maybe it was a couple of weeks ago. Nah, almost two months ago—after my monthly stock meeting. Mr. Tudor said the two of you would come by.”
Suddenly, I’m endeavoring desperately to level out my breathing. Vic expected to be here with me.
As I soundlessly pull in air, Uncle Red says, “I was speechless, but I told him I appreciated the forewarning he’d forgotten to provide the first time he arrived unannounced.”