Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
The only splash of color comes from the paintings on the wall, some of which are probably worth more than the house itself. Not very smart, in my opinion. My parents have a lot of their art displayed, but they live in a house three times the size of this one, and it’s surrounded by twelve-foot walls, an iron gate, and armed security.
The smell of food hits my nostrils as we walk into the kitchen. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t Josslyn’s mother chopping up ingredients and dropping them into a red pot. The only time I’ve ever seen my mother in the kitchen is to taste food and assess the plates the staff is using. Her mother is obviously in her element, humming along to the unfamiliar song playing on the small speaker and wearing an apron that reads “Fluent in food & Spanglish.”
If I didn’t already know so much about her, I’d think she was Josslyn’s older sister. Like her daughter, she’s beautiful and has an aura about her that makes starved people like me want to feed off of. When she sees us, she stops humming and smiles at me. She taps the wooden spoon on the edge of the pot and sets it down. Josslyn makes no sort of introduction as she walks to the sink and washes her hands. Her mother scowls at her and wipes her hands on the apron, as she walks over.
“Mom, that’s Finn. Finn, this is my awesome mother, Jacqueline,” Josslyn says in a surprisingly pleasant tone as she dries her hands.
“You can call me Jackie,” her mother says, surprising me by standing on the tips of her toes to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Nice to meet you, Finn.”
“It’s nice to meet you as well.” I offer her the bottle of white wine, which she takes with a smile as she thanks me. “Thanks for letting me crash your barbecue.”
“Oh, please. The more, the merrier.” She looks at the wine and back at me with wide eyes. “Oh, wow. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, smiling and inwardly patting myself on the back.
My mother often had a sommelier come to the house when I was growing up, and even though I didn’t drink wine, I was forced to sit through the lessons. It’s the only reason I know white is the only acceptable option for a daytime barbecue. I never buy it, though, so when I saw a bottle of my mom’s preferred Château La Mission Haut-Brion Blanc, I grabbed a bottle.
Jackie turns to Josslyn and hands her the wine, “Make sure this stays cold, Josie. We’ll open it during lunch.”
Josie. My eyes fly to her as soon as the nickname leaves her mother’s mouth, and she shoots me a pointed look—as if telling me not to call her that—which, of course, makes me want to do the opposite. After doing as her mother says, she begins lifting every single piece of foil covering the meals to see what’s underneath. One of the dishes in particular makes her lick her lips in a way that forces me to hold back a groan.
“Whatever you’re making smells incredible,” I say, taking my attention away from her daughter.
“Oh, Titus and Damian handled most of it,” she says. “I’m just making white rice and black beans.”
“Mom thinks a meal is incomplete without rice and beans,” Josslyn says as she sets the wine in the fridge.
“Joss! I’m going to use your room.” A male voice says behind me, and I instantly feel murderous.
“Oh hey, Finn,” Tiago says, lifting a peace sign as he holds his phone to his ear and rushes down the hall.
TO JOSSLYN’S FUCKING ROOM. Thank fuck, I’m the master of my emotions and able to swallow back my annoyance.
“Everyone is outside,” Jacqueline says, walking back to the pot. “Will you show Finn the way?”
“I thought we were going to make croquetas?” she asks with a pout that makes me bite down on my lip to quench the need to walk over and bite hers.
“Your aunt and Albert are coming over this weekend, so I’m saving those,” she says and smiles. “I think they’re bringing little Theo.”
“This weekend?” Josslyn’s shoulders sag.
“It’ll be an incentive for you to come back.” Jackie winks and looks at me. “You’re also welcome to come back.”
“Mom!” Josslyn says. “Stop inviting more people to eat my food.”
“Oh, Josie.” Her mother laughs. “Don’t worry, I’ll save you some.”
“You said that last time, and I got one croqueta,” she says, pursing her lips.
“I didn’t know Lyla and Lachlan were coming over that time.” She shrugs. “Now, enough about this. Be a good hostess and take him outside.”
“I’m not hosting him,” she grumbles under her breath, but when her mother shoots her a warning glance, she smiles wide, showing off her perfect teeth and that cute little dimple on her left cheek.