Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Zoey looked away from Penni. “I’m not as naïve as you think I am.” This time she was the one changing the topic. “Did you just come over to chat or was there something you wanted?”
Penni gave her a discerning gaze, but she let her change the subject. “I came over to ask you to help me convince Casey to let me take Cole on vacation with me.”
Zoey leaned back on her couch. “Why is it so important for you to take him?”
Penni’s jaw set stubbornly. “It just is.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t good enough, Penni. I can’t in good conscience try to influence Casey without knowing why.”
“I can’t tell you. I don’t even know if he would or if he is able to do it.”
“Who is he? Do what?” Zoey studied Penni intently. Whatever she wanted to achieve with Cole was serious enough that Penni didn’t feel able to confide in her.
Penni wouldn’t harm a fly. Grace had once jokingly told her that Penni wasn’t able to use her yard due to a bee infestation. Instead of having them sprayed, she contacted a university to come and get them. She loved all of God’s creatures, but Zoey didn’t think she would go to that extent.
“Even if you don’t feel able to discuss this with me, you should be upfront and honest about why you want Cole to go and let her make the best decision for him to go as his guardian.”
When Penni looked like she would balk at being truthful with Casey, Zoey reached into the vase and took out one of the roses, giving it to her.
“You and Casey are friends, right?”
“Yes.”
“If it’s for a good reason, she’ll trust you with Cole.”
Penni stared down at the rose in her hand. “I’ll try, but it won’t work.”
“What did I tell you about trying?”
“That no attempt ends in complete failure unless you don’t try. Don’t think your attempt will fail. Be confident it will succeed.” Penni repeated the same phrase that she had told her when Penni asked her advice before.
“You’re going to have be more confident than that if you’re going to convince her.”
Penni straightened her shoulders. “I’ll ask her to lunch and talk to her then.” She stood up resolutely. “Thanks, Zoey. I wish you would let me pay you for your advice.”
“I always give my friends advice for free. That way we can stay friends if it doesn’t work.”
“All your clients are friends. How do you make enough to stay in business?”
“I earn enough to meet my needs. I enjoy my life. There aren’t a lot of people who can say that.”
“As much as I complain that I want a raise, I enjoy mine, too. I love working with bands and Grace,” she said, rising from the couch and giving a last curious glance at the flowers as if the card would appear.
“Let me know how lunch with Casey goes.”
“Will do. Thanks, Zoey.”
Zoey had enough time to take a picture of her flowers and post it to Instagram before her first client of the day showed up. Her appointments were booked solid through the rest of the week.
Working steadily through the morning and afternoon, she double-checked the notes she made on each of her clients’ progress before taking off the “In Session” sign on her door and shutting and locking it behind her.
Going to Penni’s office, she knocked on the door, then looked at her watch when no one answered. That’s when she realized it was already six. Penni and Grace would have left an hour ago.
Curious about how her talk with Casey went, she was tempted to text her but didn’t want to pry.
When she walked into the parking garage, the dark interior had Zoey shivering at the dismal isolation of the concrete structure. Her little car was the last one on the third level. When she reached her car, the fear that gripped her receded.
Unlocking it, she was about to get inside when she saw a slip of paper under one of the windshield wipers. She snatched it up before quickly getting inside and locking the doors. Then she started the car before reading the handwritten note.
“I like your picture. You’re welcome.” Reading the brief note out loud sounded ominous to her. It was the first time one of her tweets into the vast nothingness had resulted in this type of response.
“Note to self: no more working past five,” she said.
As soon as she drove out of the garage, she got irritated for being so overdramatic at a simple note.
Not wanting to be cooped up for the rest of the night, she stopped by a sandwich shop, sitting alone as she ate part of her meal before tossing the rest away.
Driving in the direction of her home, she stopped at a large metal gate, pushing a series of numbers. The gate swung open, allowing her inside.