Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I shriek.
“He didn’t even know you were faking,” she hisses, trying to whisper, and I gasp. “Every time.”
“That was a secret.” I reach for my bag and start to get up, and she tosses the napkin that was on her lap on the table. “A secret between twins.”
“I know what a secret between twins means, jackass.” She calls me the name I hate. “I’ve obviously kept it a secret because you don’t have Vivienne blowing up your phone.”
I don’t say anything to her while we walk out, but she isn’t wrong. Vivienne is my sister-in-law Karrie’s best friend. She’s originally from France but now calls New York home. She has one rule when it comes to dating—it’s sex and nothing but sex—and she’s very vocal about how many times she gets it and how good she gets it. So if she knew that I got it and didn’t get it good, she would have rectified that. We walk out to the busy street, hearing the sound of honking everywhere.
“Where are you going now?” she asks me, and I look at the Town Car parked at the curb waiting for her. “I’m heading back to the office. Did you need a lift?” she says, walking to the car. The driver gets out to open her door for her, and she shakes her head. “Ricky, you don’t need to open my door.”
“Ms. Stone.” He starts talking. “Your father gave me strict orders to make sure you were well taken care of.”
I try to hide my laughter by rolling my lips. My parents are huge Dateline fans, and when they watched the one where the real estate agent was killed showing a house, they went a touch overboard by hiring him to drive and stay with her everywhere. That was two months ago, but she is the sensible one who will give in to them until she snaps. Me, on the other hand, I would have squashed that idea the minute they mentioned it.
“It’s finally a nice day, so I think I’m going to walk,” I tell her, and she looks at me in surprise. “It’s two blocks. I can survive.” I laugh and blow her a kiss, then turn to walk down the sidewalk toward my brownstone. You can tell spring is in the air; the birds are chirping, and the trees are finally starting to get some green on them. I stop at the flower shop around the corner from my house and pick up some tulips. My feet finally start to hate me when I’m walking up the stairs to the brownstone. I unlock the door and slip my shoes off, then make my way to the kitchen to find a glass vase.
“Bring some sunshine to my day,” I tell myself, placing the glass vase with pink tulips in the middle of the white counter. My phone pings, and when I walk back to my purse and pick it up, I see a couple of messages from a couple of clients. I walk up the stairs to my office when another one ping comes in. This time, it’s from Vivi.
Vivi: I heard you are taking your vagina out for a walk again. See you Saturday.
I shake my head and immediately text Zoe.
Me: What did you tell Vivi?
She responds immediately.
Zoe: That you are finally ready to come out and socialize.
I toss my phone down and block it all out while I work, only looking up when my stomach rumbles. I close my computer and walk downstairs, taking out a prepared meal that my mother had sent over. The rest of the week was uneventful. I was swamped at work with the summer season coming and people already arranging their summer wardrobe.
I’m bending down to zip up my suede black high heel bootie when the doorbell rings, but then the door opens. “Bonjour,” I hear singsonged and know it’s Vivienne.
“We’re here,” I hear Zoe yell from the stairs.
“Coming.” I grab my black suede jacket and slip it on. I pull my hair out of the jacket and grab the gray knitted scarf to wrap around my neck. I walk down the stairs and look for them in the living room, but it’s empty. I hear giggling and know that they are most likely in the kitchen. I walk in, and Vivienne is just toasting with her wine glass.
“Jesus, we get it,” Vivi says. “You’re in mourning.” I look down at my outfit. Okay, the black jeans with matching shirt.
I throw my head back and laugh. “I swear, it wasn’t what I was going for.” I put my hand on my stomach. “I swear.”
“Come, let’s do a toast,” Vivi says, and I walk to the counter as she pours me a glass of white wine. “To your brother and Max.”
I throw my head back and moan. “How long are these retirement toasts going to go on for?” I ask, gulping down my wine.