Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“I hope not,” I admitted. “Now that Gareth successfully kicked my father out of the game, it was just one more slight against him. And even though he didn't do it in an effort to start a territorial war, our families have been rivals for longer than you can even imagine. I'm sure he's getting pressure from various sections of our family to strike back. And until we figure out his next move...” My voice trailed off, a trickle of ice-cold fear slipping into my bloodstream. The idea of Gareth getting hurt because of me was one of my waking nightmares. And try as I might to push it out of my mind, it always slithered its way back in. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened to him.
“And until you figure out his next move,” Daisy repeated for me. “You have to stick with the Secret Service Bros.”
I tried to shake off the lingering fear and nodded. “If you ever decide to write a mafia romance, at least you know who to turn to for the details.”
“I love the way you think,” she said, smiling at me. “But that’s the last thing on my mind right now. I just want to be here for you. I can’t imagine the shit you’re dealing with.”
“Everything is chaotic right now, even though this is quite possibly the most content I’ve ever been in my entire life. That doesn’t make any sense, does it?”
“I think it makes a certain kind of sense, given your circumstances,” Daisy said.
Our server cleared our finished plates, and we ordered coffees to keep the lunch date going. I finally worked up enough courage to ask her more about her books. “How did you know?” I started. “That you wanted to be an author?”
“I’ve always wanted to be an author,” she said. “I fell in love with writing stories when I was younger, and I took a little bit of a detour in high school and early college because so many people told me it wasn’t a real career. But the more I tried to deny what I wanted to do, the worse my life felt. The moment I started typing out my first chapter—a horrible scene riddled with typos, tense changes, and my main character staring into a mirror—I was in love. It took me a long time to hone my craft, but even those sleepless nights where I pulled a seventeen-hour day writing gave me life.” She sighed wistfully. “And it must’ve been the right choice, because here I am fifty-three books later.”
“That’s an incredible accomplishment,” I said, marveling at the successful career she had doing something she loved.
“Have you ever had anything like that?” she asked.
“What, a dream?”
She nodded.
“I was never allowed to think like that,” I admitted, even as pathetic as it sounded. “I was raised to be a robot wife, popping out heirs for whoever brokered a deal for our alliance.”
“Jesus,” she said, then tilted her head. “Wait, isn’t that person Gareth now?”
I chuckled. “On paper, yes. And I won’t lie to you, sleeping with him is absolutely a dream. One I’d had long before I knocked on his door on New Year’s Eve. And while I wouldn’t be opposed to having his babies, I know I need to figure out who I am first.”
My admission came effortlessly, and it radiated through me like the ripples in disturbed water.
I checked myself internally, allowing the truth to play out a visual in my head.
My belly swollen with Gareth’s child. A little girl with his pale green eyes and my blonde hair, or a son with his dark hair and my blue eyes. Gareth would be a loving father and an incredible husband. He’d already proven as much, but I’d had no idea that I was that attached already.
“You could go to college,” Daisy offered. “That’s where a lot of people discover their passion. Uncover what they want to do by trying a lot of different things. Or there are trade schools. Hell, you could even just take random classes to see if anything sparks your interest.”
The possibilities she laid out filled me with hope, but they were instantly dashed. “I was tutored my entire life, but I highly doubt I could even get accepted into a college. With the way my father was about control, he ensured my education was minimal. Just enough to make it by, but nothing extensive.”
“What a prick,” she said, then flashed an apologetic look.
I waved her off. “He is a fucking prick.”
Daisy’s eyebrows raised as she barely held back a smile. “I like it when you get all sassy,” she said. “It suits you. You know, if I were you, I’d make a list.”
“A list?”
“Yeah, a list of things you’ve always wanted to try but never did. Or things that pique your interest now. Cooking, baking, sky-diving, whatever you want.”