Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
She would eat dinner, stay for the toast, and then get home as fast as she could because there was a bath and a book waiting for her. Like there was every single night.
It was a good thing, though. She’d decided to take some me time after the breakup. Some work-on-herself time. No dating. No hook-ups. Just time to reflect on where she was in life.
Tessa stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was thirty-four and took bullets for other people for a living. And even that was getting a little boring. She hadn’t actually been shot at in a long time. Her last assignment had been watching over the queen of Loa Mali and her two daughters. There had been sun and sand, and an odd amount of science talk she hadn’t been able to completely follow. Those girls were smart.
Was it time to try again?
From the expression she’d made in the mirror, absolutely not. A genuinely horrified look had come over her face when she’d thought about putting herself out there.
Perhaps it was time to accept the fact that there wasn’t some magic person out there for her, that what her parents had was rare. They’d been soul mates, and even after her dad had died, her mom kept his memory alive, still smiled every time she said his name. She was practical enough to know that didn’t happen for everyone.
She straightened her blouse, smoothed down her hair, and braced herself for a couple of hours of talking about how great she was doing and answering awkward questions and watching happy couples being happy.
She could do this. Tomorrow she would ask for the most brutal assignment her boss could find and maybe lose herself in it. If she was dodging bullets, she wouldn’t be thinking about her nonexistent love life or listening to her mom casually mention how long a woman’s eggs were viable.
Tessa walked out of the bathroom in time to see Charlotte Taggart exiting the private party room. Charlotte, who had set her up with Michael. Charlotte, who now wanted to make amends by setting her up with someone else.
She was such a coward, but she ducked into the bar to avoid that conversation. She was sure Charlotte had some guy in mind and he was the nicest man and they would look so cute together.
Nope. Wasn’t going there again.
Tessa eased onto the barstool with the most coverage. It was in the corner, behind a pillar. Charlotte would have to actually walk into the bar to see her.
“What can I get for you?” A slender woman in a white collared shirt slid a coaster in front of Tessa.
Maybe she could hang here until dinner. The tables had place cards, and she was sitting at a table with Simon Weston and his wife Chelsea. They wouldn’t be hard to deal with and totally knew what subjects would be weird for her. She just had to hide until she could slip into her seat at dinner. “I’ll take an old-fashioned.”
The bartender nodded.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” The man beside her was talking, his voice hushed, but then the place was kind of quiet, so she could hear him. “You know you’re never going to please those girls, right? There’s a reason they’re called mean girls.”
There was a loud sniffle and a feminine voice saying something Tessa couldn’t quite make out.
“I know it hurts, and I’m ready to talk to you anytime you want. I need you to understand that you haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t care what anyone else says. You’re allowed to love who you want to love, date who you want to date. Shame is a weapon, and they’ll use that to try to hurt you. Don’t let them because there’s no shame here. You stand tall and know that your family is behind you all the way. So are your real friends.”
Another big sniffle and the girl slid off her barstool. Tessa got a glimpse of auburn hair and a youthful face. She hugged the man and walked away, saying good-bye.
“You’re good with her. Is she your daughter?” She wasn’t sure why she’d asked the question. She hadn’t even gotten a good look at the man beside her. He had a stack of books and a notepad in front of him. And a beer.
Something about the way he’d spoken to the teen had made her heart twist. She remembered asshole high school girls and how they could drag someone down. Her brothers had told her to try harder to fit in. Her dad had told her maybe if she acted more feminine they would all get along.
She loved her father and brothers. It had been a different time, but she admired how this man had handled the situation.
“Only if I had her when I was…oh, god. Nineteen. I could be her dad. No. She’s my sister. And thanks. I try. I’ll be honest, I didn’t spend much time with teenaged girls when I was a teen. I had a brother and chess club. It did not make me an expert at dealing with this kind of thing.” The man beside her had golden brown hair that was slightly shaggy and warm hazel eyes.