Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Okay, it’s as normal as it can be. He plays soccer, has play dates with his friends, and goes to the movies. And I am with him as much as I can be.”
“Which is why you come to the office at nine and leave by two.”
I feel like an ass. I assumed she kept those hours because she was the boss, and she could. I pegged her as spoiled and indulged and, therefore, a slacker.
“I want to be the one to take him to school and pick him up. I don’t have a nanny. Not full time, anyway. Quinn helps out a lot, and she travels with us if I have to go out of town for work. She’s great, and the job works for her and her college schedule.”
“He’s a cute kid.”
Now that makes her light up. “Thanks. I might be biased, but I think so, too. And smart. Holy shit, he’s smart. I can’t get anything past that kid. Anyway, I’ll stop gushing about him.”
“You’re a mom.” I still can’t quite believe that. “It’s your job to gush. My mom still likes to talk about her kids.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“I have two sisters. They’re twins and older than me. Technically, they’re half sisters. My mom had them with her first husband, but my dad adopted the girls right after they got married. If anyone heard me refer to them as half, I’d get my ass chewed.”
“As it should be,” London says with a nod. “So, you’re the baby of the family.”
“Of the immediate family. But I have about a dozen or so cousins, and we’re all really close. We were kind of raised as siblings. You’re the baby, too.”
“Yes, Rome is less than a year older than me.”
“What’s up with the city names?”
That makes her laugh as she fiddles with the handbag in her lap. “It was my mom’s idea. We weren’t conceived there or anything weird like that. She just loves those cities and wanted to name us after them. Dad didn’t care.”
“Where’s your mom now?”
I feel her turn to watch me. “You don’t watch the news much, do you?”
“Not really,” I admit.
“My mother is in the south of France with her new husband, who happens to be five years older than me. Jacque. I’ve never met him.”
“Wow. You don’t speak to your mom?”
“Once a year. On my birthday, she calls to sing to me. On Caleb’s birthday, a delivery comes with way more toys and crap than he needs. On Christmas, I get diamonds of some kind. This necklace was last year’s gift.”
Her fingers clasp around the large diamond pendant just under her collarbone.
“Aside from that, no. She’s pretty wrapped up in her own life, having fun in Europe.”
“You don’t sound too torn up about it.”
London clears her throat, showing the first sign of any emotion during the entire conversation. “My parents didn’t raise me. Mrs. Olson did. She was my nanny from the day I came home from the hospital. She raised both Rome and me until we were in college. I speak to her often and see her several times a year. Sometimes, she and her husband vacation with us.”
I nod, getting a better picture of how London grew up, and it only gives me more respect and appreciation for how she’s chosen to raise her own son.
“I feel like there’s a hell of a lot more to talk about,” I say as I pull up to the valet, “but we’re here, so I’m going to bookmark where we are and pick it up later.”
Someone opens both of our doors, and there are flashbulbs going off and questions called out.
And when it’s discovered by the press that we arrived together, there are even more questions.
“Ms. Ambrose, are you and your coach an item?”
“How long have you and Coach Montgomery been dating?”
“Is this a conflict of interest?”
We avoid all the questions, and with my hand on the small of her back, we make our way down the red carpet.
I start to move away to let her be photographed alone, but she turns to me, smiles, and holds her hand out for mine.
Her eyes say, don’t go.
So, I take her hand, and we smile for the cameras. Once inside, London takes a long, slow breath and then turns to me, glancing around to make sure no one is listening in.
“I’m sorry,” she hisses. “I just get so nervous, and I instinctively pulled you back, and if that made you uncomfortable, I apologize.”
“I’m fine.” I shake my head down at her. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.”
She nods, but I see the nerves and uncertainty still in her face.
“London, you’ve got this. You look amazing, you’re smarter than anyone else in that room, and you’re the boss. You are the boss. Don’t forget that.”