Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Our conversation in person lasted more than two hours, and I shook like a leaf the whole time. At least I came prepared—not just to face the consequences either. After several apologies and a hell of a lot more tears, I laid out a plan for me to come home.
I’d do whatever my parents asked—without question—and earn back their trust. I’d get a job and put myself on a repayment schedule for the trip to Hawaii. It might take years, but I was committed.
I was determined to show them I understood how badly I had fucked up.
He listened to me with the skepticism of a man who’d been burned before. Then he sighed heavily, said he’d talk it over with my mom and get back to me. I spent a sleepless night on the floor of my friend’s dorm room, and in the morning my father called.
I was allowed to come home.
It would be probationary, he warned. They wouldn’t be giving me back my car or my credit cards any time soon, and if I was caught lying or refused to do something they asked of me, the deal would be off.
I couldn’t agree to it fast enough.
The first few days after I’d moved back into my old room were . . . awkward. I danced around my folks like the floor was made of eggshells, doing everything in my power to be helpful and perfect.
And now here it was, three weeks after I’d moved in, that we’d encountered our first issue. I sat with my back straight on the couch, dutifully waiting for him to finish his phone call. When it was over, he set his phone down and closed his laptop, giving me his full attention.
My breath stuck awkwardly in my lungs.
“How did your date with Preston go?” His tone was easy, but there was nothing casual about his question.
I pressed my lips together and swallowed hard. I hadn’t told anyone about it, only that I was meeting a friend for a drink. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t. It was a guess. Erika overheard him in the office when he asked for your number.” He settled back into his seat and a slight frown crossed his expression. “Is there a reason you didn’t tell me?”
My shoulders sagged. “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you, I swear. I’m not interested in him like that. Honestly, I wish I hadn’t said yes to him.”
My dad softened a degree. “That bad, huh?”
“It wasn’t great.”
He nodded his understanding. “I’m sorry to hear that. He seems like a good enough kid and he’s your age, but you can’t have a relationship with him.”
“Why’s that?” My heart beat faster. Was this the moment my parents told me I’d need their approval on who I dated?
“Because his company is handling Troy’s release party and you’re going to be working for Warbler. So you’ll need to steer clear of anyone involved with the company.”
I had my hands in my lap and tried not to fidget with my fingers. “Are you putting me back on the receptionist desk full time?”
God, please, no.
I’d done that job for a year after graduating from high school, and I despised it. I wasn’t any good at it, and the one day I’d filled in this week had been torture.
“No, your mom made a suggestion, and I think it’s a great idea. I was complaining about how messy the Warbler office has been getting recently, and she said you might like tidying it up.” He plastered on a smile. “We’d knock two hundred off your debt for each visit, and I was thinking twice a week.”
I held perfectly still, trying not to show my dismay. “You want me to be a . . . janitor?”
He laughed lightly. “I was thinking more like a cleaning lady, but if you want to call it that, that’s fine.” He gazed at me like this was a pretty sweet offer. “What do you say? I don’t need another receptionist. Irene does a great job, plus, I didn’t think you liked it all that much.”
No, I didn’t.
And I didn’t hate cleaning either, but . . . shit. He’d posed it as a question, and there was only one answer I could give. I’d promised them I’d do whatever they wanted, even if that meant swallowing my pride.
“Okay.” I mustered a weak smile and attempted to sound pleased, even though I hated the idea. “What days do you want me to come in?”
The silver lining to having my new ‘job’ was I got access to my car again. I parked on the street outside of Warbler Entertainment, turned off the ignition, and glanced at the bucket full of cleaning supplies sitting in my passenger seat.
Just how I wanted to spend my Friday evening.
I pushed the thought away. I’d earned this humble sandwich, and I was going to eat it. So I grabbed the bucket’s handle, got out of the car, and made my way up the sidewalk toward the building.