Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 140767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
“That’s great!” Ty exclaims, excitedly tossing Rachel over his shoulder and making her shriek.
“Ty!”
“Bye, guys!” He just laughs, ignoring a mortified Rachel completely and turning on his heel toward the stairwell doors.
“I’m so sorry he’s a rude idiot!” she calls toward us. “And it was really nice meeting you, Maria!”
Maria smiles and laughs, looking up at me conspiratorially as they leave earshot. “Man, to be a fly on the wall to see what’s about to come for her. Seems like she’s going to be shocked.”
I laugh. “I’m not sure how. Ty is the world’s worst secret-keeper.”
“He’s in love. It’s cute. Different from what I remember.”
I chuckle again. “He was a little prick back in the day, wasn’t he?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Don’t worry. He still is in a lot of ways.”
She laughs.
“Come on, I’ll walk you out.” Slow and easy, Maria and I make our way down the four flights of stairs to the street level. I place a gentle hand at her back as we walk through the lobby, and I hold open the front door for her to exit first. She smiles gratefully, stopping just outside to wait for me.
I look into her pretty caramel-brown eyes for a long moment before saying anything, and when I do, she opens her mouth to speak at the same time.
“Well, I should be going to meet—”
“Have dinner with me,” I request because it feels like two hours together in the elevator wasn’t enough. I want to chat more. To laugh more. To remember what it’s like to be around a woman whose company I truly enjoy.
Her smile is soft but hesitant as she shakes her head. “I really shouldn’t. I told Mrs. Clemmons I’d get in touch with her to reschedule as soon as I was out, and I have two contracts to write up tonight. Some other time, maybe?”
I want to push the issue—to fast-talk her into going with me anyway—but knowing what she’s been through and how tired she potentially is, I realize it’s a much better idea to lay the groundwork to have another opportunity at a less chaotic time.
“Some other time, definitely,” I respond with a wink. “And I’m going to hold you to it.”
Gently grabbing her phone from her hand, I type in my current phone number and save it to her contacts quickly. She watches me avidly, not bothering to hide the thick swallow she takes that makes her throat bob.
“I’ve really enjoyed seeing you, Maria,” I tell her, and her responding smile is so genuine it makes my chest grow warm.
“It’s been good to see you too, Rem.”
“So…let’s do it again, but under less stressful circumstances, yeah?”
She snorts. “Less stressful sounds perfect.”
“You have my number now.” I hand her phone back to her. “Use it, okay?”
She nods. “Sure.”
I lean forward and kiss the soft skin of her right cheek to say goodbye, and then I watch as she walks away.
For the rest of the night? I wait, hoping she’ll call or text or anything to return the exchange of numbers, but the communication never comes. Memories, however, do. Her some other time, maybe? reminds me so much of the first time I met Maria Baros, it’s practically palpable.
Twenty-Eight Years Ago…
Summer break, two weeks before school starts…
Remy
In less than two weeks, summer will be done, and school will be back in session. No more week-long trips to Uncle Brad and Aunt Paula’s lake house. No more sleeping in. No more watching my brothers get kicked out of the community pool for being dicks.
Soon, I’ll have to deal with homework and football practice.
It blows.
“Remy, my feet hurt,” my little sister Winnie whines, her petite hand tugging at the material of my T-shirt. “I want to go home.”
I almost want to laugh at her sudden change in mood. Prior to leaving the house, she was a six-year-old diva on a mission to tag along with me up to my high school to grab all the books and shit I need for the start of my junior year.
But after a subway ride and a ten-minute walk, she sure is singing a different tune.
“Winnie, we’re almost there,” I tell her, but she stops in the middle of the sidewalk. I turn to face her just as she stomps one pink-gym-shoe-covered foot to the ground.
“But, Remy! I’m so tired!”
“If I recall, you’re the one who said you wanted to come along,” I say, and both hands go to my hips. “I’m pretty sure I remember you begging me.”
She pouts, and her face morphs into that infamous look of hers. The look that has everyone in our family wrapped around her little finger. “Can you at least give me a piggyback ride? Pretty please?”
I smile; I can’t help it. My baby sister is too damn cute for words. “If I give you a piggyback ride, do you promise to stop with the whining?”