Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
She flashes me a bashful grin that has me wanting to turn to the next page and start capturing it. “Alright, Mr. Smooth Jazz with legs, what’s with the goose?”
“We’re friends.”
“You…befriended a goose?”
“Well, it’s not like I have a lot of options here in cell block H. The closest house of contact is about a twenty-five minute swim directly across the lake – assuming I wouldn’t get a cramp or come in contact with a boat party – and my warden – who doesn’t think I know she’s watching me out of her floor to ceiling windows like I’m gonna actually try to make that swim – isn’t exactly anxious to talk to me outside of meals, which doesn’t leave me much choice in the friend department.”
“Can’t you text people?”
“Reading a story on your phone isn’t quite the same as hearing it in person.” An innocent shrug appears between statements. “I’m good, though. Koose Koose is a solid pal. Right buddy?”
A loud honk from the unmoved white bird is loudly given.
“That’s so weird,” June thoughtlessly mutters. “You’re so weird.” As if lost in a thought she doesn’t realize she’s having out loud, she continues, “Why is my life always so fucking weird?”
“Why do you keep saying weird like it’s a bad thing?”
“Literally. Its. Definition.”
“No, just a common negative interpretation of a word that can also be used to describe things that are quirky or fun or fantastical for that matter.”
“Stop being sexy and smart. It’s rude for those of us who are neither.”
It’s my turn to groan without thinking it through, “You are so fucking both, June Bug.”
My favorite shade of red not only graces her face but her neck too. “Um…” She nervously stammers until she bumps into the pillar she’s beside. “Where uh…Where did you need me to take you?”
“I need to hit up a local art store for some supplies.”
“That sounds like you’re planning on staying for a while,” June joyfully exclaims.
“People hear what they wanna hear.”
The counter results in the smile I adore dropping to an expression I could die without ever having seen.
Man, as much as I wish I could promise her what she wants me to I can’t.
I won’t.
I don’t make promises I can’t keep and try not to say shit that I don’t mean.
“I’ll uh,” she struggles to reclaim her composure, “start making a list of-”
“No lists.” Rising to my feet is followed by tossing the last of my toast to Koose Koose. “We’re just gonna get in the car and drive around.”
“Why would we do that?” Her perplexed expression beats her disheartened one by a mile. “Why would we purposely get in the car with a purpose but without a plan?”
“Because spontaneity is the best paint to use in life.”
“Spoken by someone who was clearly never responsible for an entire fucking household.”
“Incorrect,” I lightly chortle. “I was once an assistant and manny for six weeks in Fiji while working for this real estate mogul whose wife and two kids tagged along to enjoy the island yet didn’t seem to understand that he would be mostly unavailable leaving them to be my responsibility.”
“How do you…How did you even end up getting a job like that?!”
“I’m always doing random shit.” Another innocent shrug leaves me. “And I’m always open to doing random shit. If it feels right with Fate, then I get after it. And that particular trip had everything to do with Fate. I was planning to go to Bora Bora, but somehow my flight got booked for Fiji instead. I said fuck it. Why not? Then while waiting in line to board, I was randomly bumped up to business class where I sat next to the real estate dude who eventually explained his situation and how he’d prefer to hire an American assistant versus risking any language confusion or culture clashes in the country. He originally had one, but she couldn’t travel because she had just found out she was pregnant and her ob said not to. So, I gave him my name, let him run a background check on me – swore that despite my DNA I wanted nothing to do with the family business – signed a contract to reiterate that fact, and a few hours later, I had the coolest gig that would mainly consists of finding cool shit for everyone to do, the best places to eat, and taking the kids out so mommy and daddy could fuck in the pool in peace.”
Her lowered jaw frantically bobs in disbelief.
“Wanna hear more about it?”
“Definitely.”
Her enthusiasm receives a soft smile and a small chuckle.
See.
Here we go again.
The uncontrollable impulse to spill my secrets and stories all over the floor for her to see.
I gotta figure out a way to knock this shit off…right after I finish telling her about this particular tale.