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)
Standing again in her mind, she looked at the pink balloon hovering over her and, throwing upward, she mentally pushed the negative thoughts into the balloon. When she was done, she raised her hands and pushed the balloon as hard as she could, watching it float up, imagining it going through her ceiling and into the bright open expanse of the sky that would carry it away.
Feeling rejuvenated, she got of bed to shower and dress. Choosing a pink maxi dress, she picked out a long, filmy scarf to tie her hair back, letting the long ends fall over her shoulders toward her breasts.
Fixing a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast, she topped it with blueberries and a dollop of honey. Taking a picture, she posted it to Instagram, then she swirled a spoon into the gooey bowl as she watched YouTube videos of dogs behaving badly.
Her good humor was restored by the cleansing and watching a video of a puppy using his owner’s false teeth as a chew toy. She was still laughing as she put the bowl in the sink when a loud noise came from outside.
She was about to go to her window to look when a knock had her changing directions. She didn’t have to look out the peephole to see who it was. If her car wasn’t sitting outside, she would have pretended she wasn’t there.
“What are you doing here?” Zoey asked as she noticed two of her neighbors looking out their upstairs windows. “Your bike woke up most of the neighborhood. I thought you were meeting me at the office?”
“You know what people say… When you assume—”
“So I won’t keep making an ass out of myself, there’s no need coming here. Go to the office.” About to shut the door in his face, a leather boot blocked her from closing it.
“Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”
“I was getting ready to leave.”
She could practically see her imaginary pink balloon halting its journey and doing a U-turn to blow back in her direction.
“Would you rather me wait outside, warming my bike up, or come inside?” Stump looked over his shoulder then turned back to her. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.” Zoey opened her door wider. “When you put it that way, I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?” Stepping aside, she left him to close the door as she washed her bowl and gathered her cell phone and an orange. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him studying the bare living room.
“You don’t believe in wasting money on material possessions, do you?”
Zoey debated answering his question, afraid it would reveal too much of herself. Then again, if Stump kept his end of the deal, he was technically a client of hers, and she believed in being completely honest to gather the trust she needed to make a difference in their lives.
“I work because I love what I do, not to furnish a home to show signs of my success.”
“If hanging a picture on your wall makes you feel like you would be flaunting your wealth, then I’m surprised you own a home or a car.”
“I rent this home. It’s not mine. My car is used, and I lease it.”
“You still have them. You could live on the streets or take a bus to work.”
“I’ve done both. I discovered I suck at being completely altruistic.”
Stump halted his steps toward her kitchen counter. “You’ve been homeless?”
“For about two months when I was fourteen, and again for a year before I turned eighteen.” Zoey tucked her cell phone into her pocket. Gripping her keys, she went to the door, wanting to put an end to the conversation.
“Your old man beat you?”
“My father never laid a hand on me.”
“No kid your age runs away unless there’s a reason.”
“There was.”
“But you don’t plan on sharing it with me?”
“I think I’ve shared enough for now. I have an appointment in twenty minutes.”
“Lead the way.”
She ignored the mock bow he gave her, placing the crutches under her shoulders. She was almost to her car when Kent came out of his house. Lowering her head, she pretended not to see him, wanting to avoid the early morning encounters that made her uncomfortable.
“Morning, Zoey.” Kent’s raised voice made it impossible to ignore.
“Morning, Kent. You’re out bright and early.” Zoey started walking to her car. Not even with Stump next to her did it prevent Kent from approaching.
“I wasn’t able to get my run in yesterday, so I’m making up for it today. How’s your knee?” Kent’s vivid blue eyes went over her shoulder to the man next to her.
“Kent, this is a friend of mine. Stump, this is Kent.”
The two men eyed each other, neither reaching out to shake the other’s hand.
“Kent?” Stump questioned, shoving his hands into his back pockets.