Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“It’s a love note,” Cheryl declares with a bat of her eyelashes.
I laugh that off. “It’s not.”
The note is far from that.
It contains four words and only four words.
Thanks for everything – Abby
I laughed aloud when I opened the cardboard box on my desk and found the note.
It’s both a compliment and a brush-off.
I came to the source to invite her for a drink after work.
“Declan!” Rook’s voice comes at me from the left.
I turn to see him buttoning his navy blue suit jacket. “Hey!”
“I need to grab Kirby from school.” He rakes a hand through his black hair. “She has an earache.”
“She’s okay, though, right?” I ask because that little girl ranks right up there with Hailey. I consider Kirby my niece, too, since I’ve been a part of her life from day one.
“The school nurse checked her over.” He glances at Cheryl. “Good to see you. Helena is on her way. Give her another two minutes.”
“Thanks, Rook.” Cheryl’s smile widens. “I heard you mention Kirby. The little sweetheart must be as tall as me by now.”
Rook lets out a laugh. “Not quite, but she’s headed in that direction.”
“Rook?” Eamon presses the receiver of the desk phone to his chest. “I have a call for Abby, but I saw her leave. When will she be back?”
I look at Rook because I want an answer to that question too.
“Tomorrow,” he answers without hesitation. “I expect her back tomorrow. She twisted her ankle, so I gave her the rest of the day off.”
Dammit.
Eamon grimaces. “Ouch. I’ll let them know.”
He turns his attention back to the caller while Cheryl takes off toward the smiling face of Helena Gaffin, a senior lawyer with the firm.
“Walk me out,” Rook says as he starts toward the elevator.
I fall in step beside him. “Let me know how Kirby is when you get a chance.”
He pats my shoulder. “You know I will, Uncle Declan.”
Tucking the sticky note in the pocket of my pants, I nod. “Thanks.”
“Thank you for being there for her and me.” He jabs a finger into the elevator call button. “I wouldn’t be the dad of the year if it weren’t for you and Holden.”
“Who said you’re the dad of the year?”
He motions for me to follow him into the elevator once the doors slide open. “The only person in the world who matters. My little girl.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Abby
Another day. Another dieffenbachia.
I spent the past ninety minutes sipping green tea out of a fine china mug and listening to the merits of owning a multitude of houseplants.
I didn’t have the heart to tell Mrs. Collymore that I can’t keep a plant alive beyond two weeks. I officially gave up on the plant life after the spider plant I had in my dorm room in college died of dehydration.
Carrie called me to say it was a goner when she used the spare key I gave her to drop by my room to leave me the gift of much-needed groceries.
Since then, I’ve done the plant world a favor by keeping my distance.
I step into the lobby of my building and sigh. Since I graduated from law school a year and a half ago, I’ve wanted nothing more than to take the lead with one of the corporate clients that Mr. Thorsen has taken on.
Even though I know I’m at least a year away from that happening, the fire to prove myself to him still burns inside.
All of the errands that I’m sent on and the legal briefs that I work on are stepping stones to my end goal, so I can’t discount my “meeting” with Mrs. Collymore this morning, even though it ended with her shoving an envelope with a rejection inside it into my hand along with a chocolate brownie in a zip-top bag to give to Mr. Thorsen.
Mrs. Collymore owns a chain of movie theaters that span the continent. She’s considering selling it all to focus on her terrace garden and baking. Mr. Thorsen is handling all the details, including vetting potential buyers.
It’s a long process, but since it’s her life’s work, every moment spent on it is worth it in his eyes and mine.
“Abby!”
My gaze darts to the left because I’d recognize the dulcet sounds of that voice anywhere. Apparently, my body does, too, since my nipples have perked to attention under the black blouse I’m wearing.
Thank goodness for padded bras.
I manage a nervous grin as Declan Wells approaches me, looking like he’s ready to step on a runaway at New York fashion week. Months ago, I heard a rumor that one of the Wells brothers was the model on a billboard in Times Square. That man was photographed from the neck down. He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. He wasn’t sporting any tattoos, so if the rumor does have merit, it must have been Sean. It could have been Declan with the tattoos airbrushed out of sight, but either way, he looks just as stunning in a suit as he does out of one.