Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
My phone buzzed on my desk. Speak of the devil.
Gray: Dinner tonight?
Just seeing his name light up my phone gave me a jolt. Of course I wanted to see Gray. That was part of my problem. I didn’t know when it was time to walk away from the man. Or rather, I knew, I just couldn’t do it when I was near him. It made me wonder if this was how my mother had felt—letting her heart control her head when it came to my father and his secret family. I needed to be stronger than she was, so I decided to tell a little white lie.
Layla: Sorry. Have plans tonight.
Push.
Pull.
I pictured Gray sitting at his desk, the muscle in his jaw flexing as he read my decline of his invitation. I knew the next text to arrive wouldn’t be a simple okay. I needed a little space right now, and he wanted to crowd a small room and lock us both in it.
Gray: Work?
If I answered just no, it would seem dodgy and vague now. But I didn’t like lying. So instead, I decided to make my lie into a truth. Rather than texting Gray back right away, I sent a text to Quinn.
Layla: My day is in need of homemade hooch. Know of a place?
She texted back.
Quinn: You’re in luck. I just made a fresh batch. I added in some acetylsalicylic acid this time.
I laughed.
Layla: Isn’t that what aspirin is made of?
Quinn: Damn straight. Too birds, one stone. What time you coming?
Layla: Soon.
Quinn: Soon? The clock behind the bar says it’s not even three. Do I need to replace the batteries? Or do we have some serious shit to discuss that you’re leaving that office before seven at night?
She knew me well.
Layla: Don’t waste the batteries. I might need them for my vibrator soon. XO
Now, I’m not lying.
Switching chat strings, I opened the one with Gray.
Layla: No. Plans with Quinn.
Gray: Okay. Be safe.
I wanted to leave our conversation at that, but I was curious about whether he’d reached Max and wanted to talk about it over dinner. It would be just like Gray to make sure to deliver that type of news in person.
Layla: Did you reach Max?
Gray: Not yet. Left two messages. Receptionist said she’s out of town today.
I took a deep breath in and out and tossed my phone on my desk. Screw it. What was I waiting for? The whistle to blow at five o’clock?
I opened my desk drawer and pulled out my purse. Not even bothering to put away the file I’d been working on, I decided my day was over.
It’s five o’clock somewhere.
***
Quinn’s jaw hung open. And that was saying something. My best friend had an Irish dad and owned a bar. There wasn’t much that shocked her.
“So she had his baby while he was in prison for the crime she committed, and as soon as he starts to get his life back in order, she shows up to drop a bomb?”
“It appears that way.” I sucked back a third shot of homemade whiskey and winced at the burn that traveled down my throat.
An older gentleman who must’ve been a regular—he looked familiar even to me—held up his empty beer mug from the other end of the bar. “Hey, Q. How about a refill sometime today?”
Quinn waved him away and responded without even turning her head in his direction. “Go around and fill your mug yourself, Frank. It’s on me, but it’s self-serve this afternoon.”
The old guy practically hopped from his seat to help himself.
Quinn leaned her elbows on the bar and settled her head into her hands. “So, let’s fast forward and play this out. For whatever reason, she didn’t tell him he has a kid. But it turns out it really is his. What does that mean to you and Gray?”
“I have no idea.”
Quinn tilted her head. “Having a kid isn’t the end of the world. Of course, it’s the end of your sex life, money, nice figure, and youthful skin, but it’s not the end of the world.”
I laughed. And hiccupped. Sort of a hiccup-laugh combo, which sent Quinn into a fit of laughter, too. It wasn’t even really that funny, but I think we both just needed the laugh.
Quinn wiped tears from her eyes. “You know, come to think of it, having a relationship with a guy who has a kid isn’t that bad. They generally only have the monsters every other weekend and get to be the good guy in the parent duo. They don’t have to wake them up for school or squeeze their little necks to get them to brush their teeth at night. It’s like the best of both worlds. You get to have kids without the full-time responsibility.”
“You have to squeeze their necks to get them to brush their teeth at night?”