Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
She looks mildly disappointed by his answer. Meanwhile, I drag my toes up the inside of a human leg this time. Whit’s leg, definitely.
“Are you thinking of getting a part-time job there?” he asks airily.
“No. My exams are coming up soon, so I don’t have time for work.”
Whit just smiles. At least he knows he’s responsible for spoiling her.
“You okay?” Heather asks as my body suddenly jolts.
“Yeah, fine.” I paste on a smile. Whit just grabbed my foot. I should’ve thought this through because my feet are really ticklish, and I think he’s about to find that out. “I was just thinking about my very first job.”
“I’ve had jobs before,” Lavender puts in, taking offense to God knows what.
“Hanging around festivals isn’t a job,” Brin teases.
“I handed out leaflets—and water and stuff!”
“You look like you’re about to cry.” Heather frowns my way, ignoring them.
“Just a sneeze,” I say, scrunching my nose ridiculously as Whit draws his thumbnail along the sole of my foot. “Oh!” I give my nose a rub when what I really want to do is yank my foot back and kick him with the other one because the cause for violence is real!
“You can sneeze,” Heather says next. “I know Mr. Moneybags over there thinks he’s posh, but the rest of us aren’t.”
“Mr. Moneybags objects to that,” Whit answers as he plays this little piggy with my ticklish toes. I don’t like it, not one bit! But the way he’s watching me, I dig. “You object to it too,” he adds, tilting his head like an inquisitive terrier. “Don’t you.”
“Yes!” I peep. “Just a little bit.” I turn to Heather and hope my wild eyes seem at least a little apologetic. “I knew your brother when he was a poor, ramen-eating student. He hasn’t changed.” I shake my head, less to convince her and more no, no, no, just stop!
“I worked while I was at college.” Whit seems determined to involve me in this conversation. Or make me scream. One of the two. “Do you know what I did, Mimi?”
“Sperm donor?” El suggests, allowing me a reason to bark out a laugh. Oh, that felt so good to get out. Maybe it was a little loud but it’s too late to do anything about it now. I try to twitch my foot away again, but no dice. And when Whit presses his thumb to the middle of my arch, I’m pretty sure my eyes almost roll back in my head. A hot deliciousness begins to pulse along my leg, getting higher and higher until it quivers in a place it has no business being at the dinner table.
The breakfast table, however…
“A donor.” That sounded way more sexual than I intended. “Your brother donated freely and regularly when he was on vacation.” His fingers still, and the room goes deathly quiet. “Not like that,” I add quickly. “I didn’t mean professionally.”
A collective sigh seems to be released, and El pipes up, “Thank the Lord! The world can only take one of that bossy ba—bar steward.”
“I told you there was no swearing at the dinner table.” Primrose laughs.
“What I want to know is where you gathered this intel,” Heather says, sending me a sly look.
“Purely observational,” I answer. “I was just a kid.”
She looks disappointed when Whit says, “Let’s return to the topic of jobs. Brin had a job while he was at university, didn’t you?”
I angle my attention Brin’s way, and he nods. “I had a job in a sandwich place. I got fired for putting my finger in the pickle slicer.” He shrugs. “She got fired, too.”
A groan goes around the table, though Whit and El laugh. They also get bombarded with left over sprouts, much to their disgust.
“No phones at the table!” Polly protests. Brin looks up sheepishly from glancing at his phone under the tabletop, I guess. His attention doubles back comically, though.
“Mimi, aren’t you staying with an aunt in Edgeware?”
I nod. “Mm-hmm.”
“Did you hear about that World War 2 bomb they found?”
“Yeah. How crazy is that?” I’m not sure I’d make a very good actress.
“You know what’s even crazier? It’s just gone off.”
“Off?” I give my head a little shake. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just exploded in someone’s back garden.”
Oh man. This is not good.
30
MIMI
“I’m a big girl. I don’t have to stay here.”
I blow out a breath as I pause in my pacing the living room, catching my worried frown in the mirror above the modern, oversized fireplace. “And I can also talk to myself without feeling like a complete idiot.”
Or at least I can try.
I turn to the window and watch the sun’s rays dapple the blossoming treetops. It’s amazing what a difference a day or two can make. And I’m not just talking about spring. I've discovered that my life is becoming way too complicated, and after getting off the phone with Doreen, it’s not about to become any easier. I guess I know what the little pig in the straw house felt like. Not that a wolf has blown down Aunt Doreen’s house. It’s still standing, but half the street has been declared unsafe for the foreseeable future. Doreen mentioned something about structural engineers being called in by her home insurance company. Apparently, the streets around the garden with the EOD, or whatever it’s called, are still crawling with police and army personnel.