Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
She nodded. “Can I pick another one? I want a yellow one instead. Or purple.”
Of course. “You’ll pick whichever one you want.” Just as I finished my sentence, the doorbell rang. “One day, Colby will have to learn to use his key.” I’d thought he’d made progress yesterday, when he’d already been in the kitchen when Alfie and I had returned from our emotional roller coaster ride.
I went out into the hallway and opened the door—and I was smacked with surprise.
“Alfie…?” Had I forgotten something? Had we made plans? He was dressed in cargo shorts and a tee, his sexy ink on full display. And the watch I’d given him, I noticed.
“Mornin’, gorgeous.” He reached up and kissed the corner of my mouth, which didn’t fucking help with the surprise, and he walked right in.
I…
“Hi, Daddy!” I heard Ellie exclaim.
“Are you gonna be with us today?” Trip asked hopefully.
“Hey, kiddos. Yeah, I think so,” Alfie replied. I closed the door again and returned to the kitchen. “I see Colby’s taking advantage of his day off.”
I didn’t know he had a day off, though it could explain why he wasn’t here. He might be asleep.
Alfie walked over to the counter and helped himself to coffee. “Have you checked your phone, honey?”
Who, me? Was I honey?
“Uh.” I went back to the table and dug my phone out from under today’s paper, and I noticed I had a text from a number I didn’t recognize.
The children rambled to Alfie while I read it.
West, this is Shannon O’Shea. Alfie gave me your number, and I was wondering if you were interested in joining me for a round of golf today. I have a tee time at eleven-fifteen at Green Grove.
What on earth?
One part of me instantly agreed because I loved that course. Green Grove Park was a private golf club west of Villanova, and I was in line to join, with two members recommending me. But it would probably take a while; it was a popular club. For starters, they didn’t have a par-3 until the sixth hole, preventing delays and bottlenecking. Secondly, fewer crusty old men who believed a tee time was when you rolled up to the range or wrestled your bag into the golf cart. Third, it was a golf club, not a country club.
It was another step away from my parents’ community. Every time I visited our club, I risked running into them.
The text had been sent six minutes ago.
I glanced over at Alfie, finding him watching me.
Was this the act of manipulation? Did he think a round of golf at a club I liked would persuade me?
He smiled faintly. “This is where you text him back and say you’ll meet him there.”
Right. Because of course I was going to tee off with a mobster today. I wanted nothing more. Particularly this mobster, the boss’s father…and technically, Alfie’s uncle.
I lowered my gaze to the text and hovered my thumb over the keyboard.
“Did youse make any plans with Daddy today?” Alfie shifted his attention to the children, and Trip was happy to answer. Ellie was even happier to add that she wanted a new lunch box as well. “We can do that. Backpacks and lunch boxes,” Alfie said. “Daddy’s gotta help a friend first, so he’ll meet up with us later. And I’m thinkin’ he’ll buy us ice cream when he gets there.”
Sure, sure, all the ice cream. Ellie and I were getting donuts, though.
At ten-fifty, I locked my car and wheeled my bag toward the clubhouse, where I spotted Shannon O’Shea waiting right outside. He wasn’t alone, but judging by the other guy’s outfit, he wasn’t joining us.
Green Grove was like a breath of fresh air. The clubhouse was a New England-style house, recently repainted in white and pale blue. They had a modern website, their own app for logging scores, more new money than old, excellent food in the restaurant, and fewer members who required a golf cart. I preferred to walk.
New money rather than old also promised younger members. Fewer seventy- and eighty-year-olds and far more from my generation.
Shannon had a pushcart similar to mine, so I assumed that meant he hadn’t reserved a golf cart.
When he spotted me, he exchanged a few words with the leather jacket, who nodded and stepped to the side on the wide porch.
“West, it’s good to see you again.” Shannon walked down the two steps and extended his hand.
“You too, Shannon.” I wasn’t sure if that was a lie. Either way, I shook his hand firmly. “Do you prefer Shan or Shannon?”
“Both work just fine, but I hear Shan more often.” He smiled politely and gestured to the porch. “I took the liberty of signing you in. Alfie told me you’re a four handicap, so I warmed up at the range already. We’ll see if I can keep up with my lowly eleven.”