Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Apollo doesn’t need to be convinced. His face tells me he already believes everything I’m saying. “That’s why I want to help. I won’t just give bailout money. I’ll make sure your dad’s ideas get out there. That they reach the right ears and the right people.”
“I’m sure you have influence all over the world.” Yes, I said it sarcastically. And no, I can’t help it, even though I’m happy about this. I really am. Sometimes, it’s just hard to eat the humble pie because it tastes like mud and shite…and eating shite pie never did a happy person make.
“I wouldn’t say all over the world, but I do know a few people in different places, and they know a few people who would know a few more, so I think that’s a great start.”
Ugh, this man and his positivity, his skunk, his mushroom house, his plans, his contacts, his money, his delicious eggs, and his perfect everything else is really obnoxious because it’s so easy to want to…to want to enjoy this. Fractionally. Seriously fractionally.
Maybe it’s just that for the first time in years, I have this glimmer of hope. For my dad. I can do this for him. I can.
“Maybe we should invite them out here for a weekend,” I say, but immediately regret it because I was going to add my dad would love this place so freaking much, and he hasn’t had a vacation in years. It’s been all stress. I don’t want to give family secrets away. I don’t want to do anything that might betray my dad’s trust.
Everyone has an angle.
I haven’t figured out what Apollo’s is yet. This can’t just be about making up for lost time or keeping a childhood promise. That hardly makes sense. He could just be playing me, for all I know. He could be trying to find out top-secret information to ruin my dad’s company that way. My dad wouldn’t have sold for all the money in the world, so Apollo couldn’t have bought it or his technology. I know Apollo is rich, and it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but hey. Never underestimate the power of wanting revenge, and John truly does hate my dad now.
“That’s a great idea.” He picks up his fork and eats like he’s relieved enough to have an appetite now that I threw that out there.
I’ve never seen anyone shovel so much food in so fast. It’s not gross, though. He just eats like a hearty lumberjack who lives in a mushroom house and does foresty stuff.
“Where’s your non-cat?” I ask as I try to take small bites. I don’t want it to appear like I’m enjoying this, but every single mouthful is delicious, so it’s hard. I guess small bites equal more secret savoring.
“Oh, I fed her breakfast an hour ago. She usually naps all morning, gets pretty wild and hilarious in the afternoon, has a snack, naps again, gets up, and then plays around the house all night.”
“Are skunks nocturnal?” How much wild stays in a wild animal, even one raised by a human mommy before her eyes were opened?
“They are, by nature. But she does sometimes settle down with me for cuddles for a few hours at night.”
There go my nipples, thinking about cuddling up to Apollo and all his muscles. Ugh. It’s his manly body that’s wreaking havoc on my senses. My own body is a big-time traitor. That might be part of his plan. Use his physique to seduce me into giving away my dad’s secrets, maybe? Knowing Apollo, probably not, but I don’t know him anymore, do I?
“That’s…that’s nice.”
“Cats often roam all night too. I don’t think they’re naturally nocturnal. Maybe I should get one to give Bitty Kitty a friend. They’re supposed to get along great.”
“Cats and skunks?”
He shrugs. “So I’ve heard.” He starts to grin. “Have you seen that thing online where it pokes fun at the things that aren’t cats? The skunks and raccoons and possums?”
“I have.” It’s awesome, so awesome, but I don’t want to show any excitement. I’m careful to keep things neutral or scowly in order to keep my internal feelings just mine and out of reach.
“Maybe I should get a second cat. Except it will actually be a possum.” He hoots with laughter. Seeing him light up like that makes my chest constrict.
He’s so perfectly unselfconscious. I forgot how he could be that way. How he could just let go. How, half the time, he was goofy and funny just for me. I could never stay in a bad mood when Apollo was with me. We laughed. We laughed so freaking much back in the day.
Then he left.
And there were a bunch of hard years.
“Or you could get a real cat. Some granny cat that needs a home.” Granny cats have a special place in my heart. Or grandpa cats. The old ones that people tend to overlook or not want because they’re not as fun as kittens or they need extensive vet care. It’s sad. It actually breaks my heart.