Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“Let me guess,” I begin before taking a sip from one of the coffee cups. “You called mom back to tell her all that, and she asked you to watch guard just in case the bad guy came back.”
His left brow perks. “No. I came inside to check on things and sat down for a minute, and lights out. I fell asleep on the couch.”
I shove a cup of coffee at him. “I’ve slept on the couch. It’s hard as hell. You must be exhausted.”
He takes a long drink from the coffee. “It was wild being back in this place for the night. It’s full of memories. Good and bad.”
I glance around the room we’re standing in. It’s where our mother sets up the Christmas tree each year. We’d gather here for our monthly family meetings, which were just an excuse for our parents to get us all together in one place as we grew older.
“Mostly good memories,” I add. “We were lucky growing up in this place, Decky.”
“Damn lucky,” he agrees. “Do you see yourself in a house like this when you settle down?”
Before I met Calliope, I wouldn’t have entertained the idea of settling down, but that’s changed now. I can see a future with her. I can imagine special occasions being by her side and carrying her over the threshold of a home chosen by the two of us.
“I can see it,” I say. “I can finally see it.”
“With Callie?” he asks tentatively.
I nod. “Yes.”
Keeping his gaze trained on my face, he steps closer to me. “Are you in love with her, Sean?”
“Yeah,” I admit. “I am.”
He closes the distance between us to pat me on the cheek. “I’m happy for you. You deserve it more than anyone.”
“I don’t deserve her.” I smile. “She’s too good for me, but don’t tell her that.”
Declan and I take the same path I took the night when I stumbled on Calliope standing outside the building we’re approaching now. We’re on the hunt for something to eat.
I insisted we come this way so I could drop off something for Leon. I may not know the guy, but he’s a friend to Champ, so that’s all that matters to me.
“There’s a deli two blocks from here. We can grab some sandwiches to take back to my apartment,” Declan says from behind me. “We’ll eat, I’ll shower, and then we can go into the office for a couple of hours. We need to catch up on a few things before Monday.”
He’s lagging because he’s been texting one of our district managers non-stop since we left the townhouse. I got the initial text but passed it on to my brother because he’ll handle the issue while I stop to talk to Leon.
“Sounds good,” I call back to him. “Lunch is my treat this time.”
I slow as I near the building where Calliope used to live.
“This is it?” Declan asks as he takes the spot next to me. “You’re giving the pen to someone here?”
The pen in question is any pen collector’s dream. It’s silver and ornate with a designer brand name stamped along its side. The case we found it in bears the same brand name.
The forgotten pen was a gift from one of my uncles when I graduated middle school. He had just returned from a trip to Bali, where he bought it.
I was a teenage kid with no use for a silver pen since I received it right at the start of summer vacation. It ended up abandoned in a box with a bunch of comic books, a few packages of stale bubble gum, and a poster of my favorite skateboarder.
I imagine the pen is worth a few hundred dollars, but it’s not something I’ll use. It’ll bring more joy to Leon since it sounds like something he’ll covet.
“One of the doormen,” I say as I peek inside the bank of windows at the front of the building. “I’ll check to see if he’s on shift. If he’s not, I’ll try another run at him next week.”
“I’ll wait here.” Declan points at his shiny black shoes.
He switched out the board shorts for the suit he was wearing yesterday. I’m weekend casual in jeans and a black sweater. I may be following his lead to the office today, but there’s no one there to impress.
“Be right back,” I toss out before I approach the double glass doors of the building that Calliope once called home.
I spot Leon immediately. He’s behind a reception desk tucked away near the elevators. There’s a cap on his head and his uniform looks freshly pressed.
“Leon!” I call out to him.
He turns to glance in my direction. His gaze wanders my face as I approach him as if he’s trying to place me.
“Sean Wells,” I help him out with a gentle reminder. “We met one night when Calliope Morrow stopped by.”