Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
“Excuse me?”
“Hops. Barley. They grow from the ground, right? Hence, beer is salad.”
“Is my future going to be filled with this kind of logic?”
“Hopefully not. You could have a magnificent change of heart and forget you ever saw me.”
“Not a chance.”
She sighed. “Please, not another word.” She’d been right earlier when she said he never gave up. “You don’t get to ruin my pizza party.” Since there were others in line who wanted the food as much as she did, she walked away from the table. “Want a beer?”
He joined her at the bar where the server described the evening’s three options and ending with his suggestions. “The lager pairs nicely with the Margherita pizza, complementing the charred crust and sweetness of the sauce,” he said. “Perfect for you, sir.” He poured a small sample. “Ma’am, may I recommend the brown ale? It will help deliver a complex finish to your meal.” He poured a second taster.
“Who knew pizza and beer could be so complicated?” Jax asked.
In the end, he went with the lager, and she selected the brown ale. They found a couple of bistro chairs around a wrought-iron table and settled in.
She took the first savory bite and closed her eyes in pleasure. When she finally reached for a drink of her beer, he was staring at her.
“I could watch you eat all night long. You’re all smiles and sighs.”
“Pizza is my favorite. I buy one every Sunday and eat it for dinner every night of the week. So I never have to cook dinner.” Midway through the second piece, she gave up.
“That was quite impressive.”
Hating to admit defeat, she eyed it. “If pepperoni had been the only topping, I could have finished it.”
A server took their plates, and they carried the remainder of their drinks to a comfortable couch in a secluded corner. The lighting was soft, and the area was quiet.
She kicked off her sandals and curled up near him, holding her beer. “You mentioned a children’s charity, such as supporting a camp. A summer school type of thing? Or after school?”
“So you are intrigued?”
“Of course. I think having places for kids to go, something to do is essential. Even community centers—free ones—are wonderful. Anywhere with adult supervision. Interaction.”
“Not everyone is fortunate enough to have resources when they’re growing up.”
There was something different in his tone. An underlying pain she’d never suspected.
“You’ve never listened to my videos, have you?”
Pretending she’d been uncomfortable, she shifted her weight, tucking her legs the opposite direction.
“Otherwise you’d know my story. I left home at fifteen with cracked ribs and a black eye.”
Shock rendered her silent.
“My dad did it.”
“Your mom didn’t stop him?”
Jax’s words were emotionless, but his eyes were turbulent. “I tell my story often as inspiration, but I rarely talk about my mom, so this part is personal and not to be shared.”
When she nodded, he went on. “She left when I was young.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure how old I was. The memories are fuzzy.” He took a long drink of his beer before sliding it onto a nearby table. “I don’t know her name. Only thing I ever heard my dad call her was bitch. Whore. And a couple more colorful descriptions.”
“Oh Jax. I had no idea.” His struggle made his success all the more remarkable.
“He always suspected I wasn’t his, but I suppose we’ll never know. She swore I was legitimate, but one night when he was drunk, he called me a bastard, and not in the asshole way.”
She waited for him to go on.
“A teacher took pity on me and nominated me for a scholarship to summer camp one year, and my dad let me go because they fed me breakfast and lunch and that was less money he had to shell out for my miserable existence. His words.”
Her hand shook.
“I learned about acting and creating video.”
“Your first five dollars.” She gave a half smile. “Five. Your lucky number.”
He took his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out the bill. It was worn with time and handling, and it looked different from the currency she’d recently seen in circulation.
“My dad found other money hidden in my room. That’s why he snapped. I made my own way. Stayed with friends, slept on couches. Somehow managed to get a GED even though I dropped out of school at sixteen.”
How could she not want to help him support other kids? He was dragging her into his web. She had to be careful not to capitulate entirely.
Her phone vibrated in her back pocket. “My mother, I’m sure.”
“Go ahead.” He took a drink of beer while he watched her.
She typed in a reply and a heart emoji before putting the phone upside down on the table. “She often sends news from home. It’s her way of checking on me.”