Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
His face brightens with a wide-mouthed smile. “Of course. Mr. Wells. It’s good to see you, sir. If you’re looking for Miss Morrow, she’s not here. She only stops by on occasion.”
“I’m here to see you.” I hold out the rectangular box with the pen. “Calliope said you have a pen collection. I thought you might want to add this one to it.”
“Sir?” He glances at the box and then at my face. “What do you have there?”
I snap open the lid, and the guy’s eyes widen in their sockets. His jaw drops too. This gift from good old Uncle Bruce is about to make someone happy.
“I’ve seen pictures of this, but I’ve never…” He runs a gloved fingertip over the pen. “How much?”
The question catches me off guard. “It’s free, Leon. I brought it for you.”
“You did?” His eyes search my face. “Why?”
“Why?” I echo. “Why not?”
That draws a hearty round of laughter from the gray-haired man. “You sound like Miss Morrow. She brings me pens just because she knows I collect them.”
I shove the pen at him. “Add this one to that collection.”
He reaches for the box. “You’re sure, sir?”
“Positive.” I glance beyond his shoulder to the bank of elevators.
“Can I do anything for you?” he asks quietly. “I feel I should repay you for your kindness.”
I could use his gratitude to fuel my curiosity by asking the name of the fool Calliope used to live with, but that feels like a betrayal.
I step back and shake my head. “No need, Leon. Enjoy the pen.”
“Thank you again, Mr. Wells. I’m glad Miss Morrow has a friend like you. She deserves only the best.”
“You’re right about that.” I pat him on the shoulder. “Calliope deserves the world.”
I turn to leave and make it a few steps before one of the double doors open, and a blond-haired man dressed in a white polo and matching shorts walks in.
He stops mid-step when he catches sight of me.
I stare at him. He’s changed slightly since I last saw him, but it’s unmistakably the bastard I took to the ground in high school. I still remember what it felt like when my fist connected with his nose.
With a smug look on his face, he approaches me.
“I thought I saw your brother standing outside,” he drawls. “Tell me you’re not moving in here, Wells.”
Tell me you’re not the asshole that Calliope was engaged to.
I keep that to myself while I try to process the fact that I’m staring at Dagen Hillstead.
“Mr. Wells isn’t moving in,” Leon drops his two cents into the middle of this reunion. “He’s a friend of Miss Morrow.”
Dagen’s face morphs from a self-assured dick to a surprised bastard. “You know Callie?”
Struggling to keep my tone even, I look him dead in the eye. “I’m in love with her.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Callie
Don’t panic.
I tell myself that for the third time as my gaze drops to the watch on my wrist.
Sean and I agreed to meet for dinner at his place at seven. It’s nearing eight thirty now, and he’s not home. He also hasn’t responded to any of the three texts I’ve sent him in the past few hours.
The first was at six to see if I could bring anything for our dinner.
I followed that up with another one at seven fifteen, asking if he was asleep since I had knocked on his door, and he didn’t answer.
I sent the last one ten minutes ago, telling him I’m worried and hope he’s okay.
I also hope that we are okay.
My after dinner plans included telling Sean about Dagen. If Dagen knows Kavan, there’s an excellent, almost one hundred percent chance that he knows Sean too.
Part of me is scared that Sean will feel some sort of loyalty to Dagen that will pull him away from me. I know that Dagen felt that with a few of his friends. All of them went to the elite boarding school too.
Feeling as though the walls are closing in on me, I decide to take a walk. I can circle the block a few times and then try Sean again. Maybe, he’ll be home by then. I keep telling myself that he’s dealing with a work catastrophe.
I can’t imagine what that would consist of, but it’s the thin thread I’m clinging to right now, and I don’t want to let it go.
I grab my phone and keys and head out the door.
I’m still wearing the blue lace sundress I put on for dinner. Earlier today, I found it at the vintage store I love. Wearing it with my white blazer will transform it into office attire. It’s too warm for that tonight, so I’ve paired it with flat sandals.
As I check to make sure that my apartment door is locked, I hear a soft noise behind me.
Startled, I turn abruptly.