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)
“Why would you pay your kids to wake us up?” Zoe asks, sliding into a chair next to me. She is wearing almost the same thing as me without the robe, and her hair is also tied on top of her head.
“It’s payback for all the times you woke me up when you were kids.” She smirks and goes to kiss my dad’s cheek.
“Suck-up,” Zoe mumbles and just laughs at her while I just shake my head.
“We were kids,” I tell her, and she just shrugs. Zoe opens her phone to scroll through her Instagram. “Are we having a family lunch?” I ask my parents and then turn when I hear Zoe gasp. Her eyes fly to mine, and when they go wide, I know something is up. And from the look of horror on her face, it’s bad. Like tsunami bad.
“Oh. My. God,” she says and puts her hand on the top of her phone to block what she’s looking at. Her eyes fly to Allison. “I need backup,” she says, and the way her voice comes out, Allison springs into action, getting on my other side. I look at both of them, and we are distracted when Karrie yells from the front door.
“We are here,” she shouts, and the kids run in with a hurricane of kisses and hugs before they run off to the basement. They went traditional, and all their kids’ names have to do with family members. Cooper is named after my dad and is the biggest honor that Matthew could have given him. Frances is named after Karrie’s mom who passed away. There is Vivienne, who, thankfully, is nothing like her namesake. Then there is baby Allison, who is just starting to get her own sass, and she gets that from us apparently. She slashed Cooper in the mouth two months ago, and he needed five stitches. She looked at them with her big blue eyes, and said, “He’s a puke ass bitch.” We almost died when Matthew looked at us and glared.
“What’s going on?” she asks innocently, stopping mid step into the kitchen to look at us. Vivi knocks into her from behind. My heart won’t stop hammering in my chest.
“Things are about to go through the roof,” Zoe says and then turns to me. “I need you to take a deep breath.” Which makes everything so worse than before. Why would I need to take a deep breath? The worst-case scenarios are going through my mind. Wardrobe malfunction to one of the Hollywood stars, worst-dressed list. So many things.
“Holy shit, is there a paparazzi picture of one of my clients?” My hand goes to my chest, but she just shakes her head.
“It’s worse,” she whispers, and I see the tears forming in her eyes. I reach over and snatch the phone out of her hands. She tries to snatch it back, but she’s too late. I see it there.
The picture is in color this time. Ed kissing his new girlfriend, but what my eyes fly to is the hand she is holding up with a diamond ring glistening on her finger. “Get my phone,” she shouts, and they all spring into action, trying to get the phone from me, and I’m caught off guard.
Allison grabs my phone, Karrie grabs the remote to turn off the television, my mother rushes to my side, and Vivi rushes to the wine fridge and pulls out three bottles.
“What is going on?” My father just stands in the middle of the kitchen. Shocked and confused, he darts his eyes from one person to the other.
“MOTHERFUCKER,” I yell at the top of my lungs, shooting out of my chair. Rage, anger, and hurt fill me.
“Oh my God,” my father whispers, but he still doesn’t move as he watches me start to pace. The women around the room spring into action. My mother comes to my side, but I can’t stop walking. Zoe comes to stand next to her while Allison looks at the phone. Her eyes come to me when she finally reads what I just read.
“That motherfucker,” she says and tosses the phone to Karrie who gasps out loud. She puts the phone down on the counter with more force than she should and then walks to the fridge for the bottle of tequila.
“What the hell is going on? Can someone please tell me what is going on?” my father asks, rubbing his hands through his hair.
No one answers him. Vivi pours the wine while Karrie pours a shot of tequila and brings it over to me. “This isn’t going to help, but it can’t hurt,” she says. I take the shot from her and swallow it down, and it burns the whole way down.
“For the love of God, I need one of you women to tell me what is going on,” he shouts. “Why am I the only man around here?”