Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
But none of that is true.
I begin to walk away. He exits the supply closet behind me. “Webb.”
I look back. If there’s any indication of what we just did in his expression, I can’t see it at all. It’s like he really did leave it all behind that door.
“What’s up, Baptist?”
The ghost of a smile. I’m trying to be casual and I know I’m coming off like an idiot.
“Give Ansell your two weeks’ notice on Monday.”
“Are you serious? That soon?”
“Cowan wants to get moving. If you want to be a part of this—”
“I do.”
“Then Monday. And in two weeks, the fun begins.”
I nod once and turn away.
Two weeks. I can push what just happened from my mind in two weeks. By the time I start this new job with Baptist, that little blip in the supply closet will be nothing but a vague memory, more like a half-remembered dream.
I can push him away. I have to.
This is going to work.
Chapter 2
Blair
One Month Later
“Max! Get your ass up!” I shout over the gurgle of the coffee maker as I finish up making toast and eggs. It’s just after six, and Max has to leave for the bus in twenty minutes, and my little brother isn’t capable of getting dressed and out the door in anything less than an hour.
Which means I’ll be driving him to school. Again.
Max appears in the kitchen, groggy, his mop of brown hair spilling into his eyes and sticking up straight in the back. He grunts at me, which I think is Max for good morning dearest sister of mine who sacrifices so much for my well-being, I love you so much, you are the greatest sister of all time.
“Good morning,” I say in response.
My little brother is a senior at a private high school in the nicest part of the city. Unfortunately for us both, I don’t live in the nicest part of the city, on account of not taking any money from our worthless father. To make it even worse, I only have one bedroom, which means I sleep on the couch because I can’t imagine having a teenage boy set up permanently in my living room.
“Have you heard from Mom recently?” he asks as he fills a to-go mug of coffee.
“She FaceTimed with me last night. She looks good.”
“When’s she coming back?”
I don’t have the heart to tell him never so I just shrug. “I don’t know. Soon, I guess.”
“Whenever her new boyfriend gets tired of her, right?”
I grimace. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true though. What’s Dad think of all this?”
“Dad’s too busy wallowing in self-pity and visiting his girlfriend to care.”
Max sighs and cracks a smile. “Our parents are gross.”
“Yes, Max, our parents are truly gross.”
We laugh together and eat in comfortable silence. Yes, my brother is a teenage boy, and yes, he’s sullen and moody and makes my life hard—but I love him to death.
And I’d never, ever leave him alone to live with our father.
Back when Mom was still in town and living in that big house out in Mt. Airy, Max was more or less taken care of. But now that she’s out in England having the time of her life (so she says, I don’t believe her at all), Max needs someone to keep him on a schedule. Someone to make sure he doesn’t drop out and get addicted to fentanyl or whatever the youths are doing these days.
That someone isn’t my narcissist father, which means that someone is me.
“Time to go,” I say, grabbing my bag.
“Are you seeing Baptist today?”
“I see Baptist every day. We work together, remember?”
He grins and shrugs. “Right. Yeah. He’s cool.”
“Do you have a crush on my boss, Maxy?”
He rolls his eyes. “Baptist isn’t my type. He’s too—”
“Too much of an asshole?”
“Too outgoing. Too charming. I like my boys a little darker.”
“Well, Maxy, I’m glad you’ve already identified what you like so young in life, because I still have no clue.”
“Don’t worry, eldest and only sister. Your time is coming.”
“That’s ominous. My time for what?”
“I mean your time to be happy, dingus.” He nudges against me and I put my arm around him as we leave the apartment and head downstairs. The car’s parked out front in an ideal spot, and I hate to give it up but the boy needs a ride.
He fiddles with the music on the drive over and hops out as soon as we’re out front. “Don’t forget your homework,” I shout at him as he hurries away, blending into the sea of green and blue uniforms. I sigh and drive off, heading toward Fairmount and my current job.
If you can call it a job.
I’m not sure that’s the word I’d use.
When Baptist first pitched me on his new production company, I thought it would be glamorous. We’d scout locations, meet with talent, all that good stuff.