Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Donnelly looks overwhelmed.
Every memory with him, every strand of his life and mine are threads woven together, and this tapestry of us is infinite. Because it won’t be buried in a wall. This won’t be left for only me to find. It will never be lost. It will always, always live on through you.
“I don’t ever want to be invisible.” I take his hand. “I always want to be seen with you.” Sudden nerves join the thrill, or maybe thrilling things are naturally nerve-wracking. “I just hope people don’t one-star bomb it.”
He laughs and pulls me closer to his chest. “If they do, they don’t have our great taste. We’ve got the palates of angels.”
“Divine,” I nod.
“Unearthly.”
“Humans will know us,” I let this sink in.
“As they should.” He clutches my cheek, a radiant grin in his eyes. “Who wouldn’t love a Lunnelly?”
EMAIL FROM SAM STOKES
FROM: samstokes@fizzle.com
TO: dontemailme1882@yahoo.com, eliotalice@gmail.com, benpirripcobalt@upenn.edu, aragorn1225@gmail.com, queenofthebula@gmail.com
After the Fizz Gala, the rankings are as follows:
Charlie Keating Cobalt
Eliot Alice Cobalt
Luna Hale
Xander Hale
Ben Pirrip Cobalt
Your feedback:
Ben: You were on the phone for half the gala. It’s unacceptable. The board expected far more from you. (-2 spots in the ranking)
Xander: You made minimal effort to socialize. But thank you for sticking it out. (+1 spot in the ranking)
Luna: The highest you’ve ranked thus far. Well done. (+1 spot in the ranking)
Eliot: A true gentleman throughout the evening. No mayhem, no pranks, no drama. The board only questions whether it’s all an act, as Charlie continues to remind them. (- neutral, no shift)
Charlie: Be more cognizant of how you talk to shareholders. The board expects this to change if you are selected. (- neutral, no shift)
This is the last email you’ll receive regarding rankings. The final presentations will conclude this evaluation period. Please come prepared and on time. A successor will be chosen after a private closed-door deliberation, and we’ll follow up via phone call. Thank you all for your participation. We truly believe the future of this company will be in good hands.
74
PAUL DONNELLY
Beep.
The buckle your seatbelt icon illuminates above my head. Turbulence rumbles the commercial airplane, and the interior lights dim for the red-eye. Flight attendants brew coffee and whisper in the galley alcove.
Hitching a ride on commercial feels foreign. I’ve been flying on private jets for so long. It’s not even the top five strangest things about tonight.
I’m in first-class. Aisle seat. And Ben Pirrip Cobalt is my passenger buddy. He hasn’t spoken since we boarded. He’s stretched out his long legs. With AirPods in his ears, he gazes out of the circular window as the bright Vegas lights fade in the distance.
We’re flying away from Sin City. Lasted a total eight hours there.
Now I’m making my way back to my girlfriend and my elf. After one long layover in Atlanta, I’ll be in Philly tomorrow night. This was the only flight available at the last minute, and Ben always flies commercial when he’s alone.
“Sir, would you like anything to drink?” the flight attendant whispers to me, since most passengers have already whipped out their neck pillows and put on sleeping masks.
I need to stay awake. “A coffee, thanks.”
She smiles at my accent on coffee. “Boston?”
“Philly.”
Her eyes flash to Ben, who shuts the visor over the window and faces forward. Recognition slowly washes over her—knowing he’s Connor and Rose’s son—but she keeps a polite smile like this isn’t the first famous face she’s seen on a plane.
She captures his attention. “Sir, anything to drink?”
Ben pulls out an AirPod. “No. I’m good. Thank you.” He manages to smile back, but as soon as she’s gone, his lips flatline, and he works his jaw like emotion is barreling back into him.
“You wanna talk about it?” I ask quietly.
He shakes his head a few times, heated, and shoves the AirPod in his ear. I’m curious if he’s engaged in a meditation app to find his calm, happy place. His phone is slanted towards me, and I peek over.
He’s listening to Led Zeppelin.
I watch the flight tracker on my screen. Less than four hours till landing in ATL. Not too bad. Not too bad. Except, in the quiet—alone with my thoughts—I can’t stop thinking about Vegas.
Fight Night. Televised for all the at-home viewers.
They got a good show.
I watched the live event in the third row next to Frog. She seemed antsy. Like me, she’d taken the trip in support of security. Not there as a bodyguard on-duty. Her cousin Akara would be fighting, and she also wanted to be a friend to Sulli, who brought Seven along. The first big outing for the popular newborn.
With the core six in attendance too, the Masquerade Hotel & Casino could’ve rivaled the White House with the amount of private security floating around. So I didn’t think Frog was fretting about anyone’s safety.
I’d been wrong though, in a strange way.