Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
My belly churns with nerves as I turn the silver handle and step inside the grand foyer. Even though the place was professionally decorated years ago, there’s a warmth to the interior that makes me feel instantly at home.
This is the first time we’ve seen each other since the incident. That’s what I’ve dubbed it in my head.
I’m fully expecting this convo to be awkward.
How could it not be?
But I can’t allow this situation to linger between us. This issue needs to be hashed out and resolved. Not talking to Crawford has left a huge hole in my life just as it has with his son. If I can’t fix my relationship with Ford, the least I can do is smooth over the one with his father.
I can also make sure they’re back on track. I can take the brunt of the responsibility for what happened. Whatever I have to do to make everything right between them, I’ll do it.
Conversation from Crawford’s home office spills out to the entryway. Voices talk over one another, jockeying for top position. I should have expected that he’d be busy.
Maybe this impromptu visit wasn’t such a great idea after all. The last thing I want to do is interrupt. I’ll drop the food off in the kitchen, and he can dig in when he has time.
Just as I swivel toward the back of the house, a deep voice halts me in my tracks.
“Carina?”
I glance over my shoulder and find Crawford standing in the office doorway.
“What are you doing here?” Before I can respond, concern floods his expression. “Is everything all right? You never pop home during the middle of the day.”
I force a smile. “Sorry about that. I probably should have called first to see if you were busy.”
His gaze falls to the large paper bag in my hand. “You brought lunch?”
“Yup. But I can leave it on the counter for later.” I glance toward the room behind him that continues to burst with voices. “There’s more than enough to feed at least five people. You can have a working lunch if you’d like.”
“That was very thoughtful.” He glances at the chunky silver Rolex wrapped around his left wrist. “We’ve been at it for a couple of hours already. Now seems like the perfect time to take a much-needed break. They can run out and grab something and we’ll enjoy the,” he pauses to sniff the air, “Chinese, if I’m not mistaken.”
A smile lifts the corners of my lips. “Yup. Spring rolls, pork dumplings, chicken fried rice, and kung pao chicken. There’s plenty. I really don’t mind sharing with your staff.”
He waves a hand. “Nah. They can fend for themselves this afternoon.”
Ten minutes later, we’ve set up our food on the glass table in the kitchen that overlooks the backyard. The pretty view never fails to soothe my soul when something’s bothering me.
Or maybe that’s just this place.
It’s become a safe haven.
That wasn’t a feeling I knew until after meeting Crawford.
We take a little bit of everything before digging in. Although, much like the night we were here for dinner, my appetite pulls a disappearing act. I thought for sure the amazing scent of my favorite takeout would pique my interest.
After a grueling, two-hour dance class, I should be famished.
Instead, there’s nothing.
Nothing but a vague sense of unease.
With his fork, he points to my plate. “You brought over all this food, and I don’t think you’ve taken a bite. Is there something you want to talk about?”
I huff out a breath and shove the dish away before staring down at my hands. The reason I decided to drop by in the first place was to clear the air. He needs to know that whatever was going on with Ford is now over.
The thought brings a pang to my heart.
But I’m doing what’s best for the family, right?
That’s what’s important.
At some point, Ford and I can smooth over our relationship and forget that we were ever together. It’s not like it lasted very long. It’ll be a momentary blip of insanity that we can laugh about in the distant future.
The very distant future.
And we can continue to be a family.
When I remain silent, trying to figure out how best to get it all out in the open, he says, “Have you spoken with your mother?” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before his voice dips. “Is that what this is about?”
The question throws me for a loop.
“Mom?” I haven’t talked to her since our conversation in the family room. It didn’t seem like there was anything else to say after that. “No. Did something happen?”
His gaze flickers away as his normally strong shoulders wilt. “Pamela decided that she didn’t want to get remarried after all.”
My eyes widen as my mouth falls open. “Are you kidding?” Although, it’s doubtful he’d joke about something like this.