Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
So, what do I do?
Am I Elpida, who lets someone die so she can become the person she was meant to be?
Or am I Hope, who stays connected to someone and honors the relationship that helped her scale the mountain in the first place?
“Cord?”
“Yeah, sorry, I was just… driving.”
Britney shoots me a confused look.
“No worries. So? What do you think? Can I email you over a contract to have a look at?”
I stare out the window and the late afternoon LA sun, thinking about HEAs and what they really mean.
Does it have to be one thing? Marriage and a baby? Or can’t it look like something else? Whatever you decide it is?
Truly. What does happily ever after look like?
It should be able to look like whatever you want it to look like, I decide. Especially if you’ve worked your ass off and you now understand that it doesn’t always pay to play by the rules.
Shouldn’t it?
I blink the sun out of my eyes and close them, blocking out all the competing thoughts.
You’re damn right it should.
“Yeah,” I say into the air between me and the speaker on my phone. “Go ahead and send it over…”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Here’s something most people don’t know about Terry—he has seven kids. Seven. Like the ranking of Master Choke on Monday. Today, it’s number five. It’s probably gonna hit the New York Times again. It’s been on that list seventeen times, but that was years ago when it was still fresh.
So… yeah. This is good? A silver lining, so to speak?
Probably not. Because I know most people are downloading it just so they can leave a verified one-star review.
They don’t read it. They don’t care about the characters or the story arc. They have no interest in the amazing twist at the end or the set-up for book two.
I’ve gotten hundreds of one-star reviews over the past few weeks. And… yup. That means my review rating has gone down from a four-point-one to a two-point-nine.
A Nerf bullet hits me in the forehead and the smallest of Terry’s little darlings—he calls her Daisy Dog, for some reason, but I’m pretty sure her name is Noralynn—smiles at me from across the room, her Nerf gun still aimed in my direction. She’s wearing a purple tutu, camo jeans, a princess crown, a unicorn horn, and a cowboy vest strapped with fake guns. “Got you,” she says, squinting her little blue eyes at me.
Terry walks by, grabs her by one arm, twirls her around as she screams, and sets her back down all without missing a step. She goes squealing off, yelling, “Get me!”
I look at Terry and he shakes his head. “Sorry. You know what they say about the youngest.”
I don’t, but whatever. “Thanks for letting me stay here, man. I really appreciate it.”
Terry salutes me. “Dude, my couch is your couch. You know that.”
I do know that because the past week of my life kinda spiraled. First, Mike came over. That was yesterday. He had to fight his way past the reporters camped outside my house. But he made it. He came to tell me that Mom and Dad were going to be having an emergency meeting tomorrow—today—with their old-people-house culty-compound co-op board.
Apparently, even the nation’s octogenarians are hip to my outrageous behavior towards romance authors. They’re going to vote to see if Mom and Dad can still live there because I’m a black mark on their reputation.
“Don’t let it get to you,” Mike said.
“How do I do that, Mike? How? They’re gonna get kicked out of their house!”
“Kind of ironic, isn’t it?” Mike asked. “Because you’re the one paying the bills.” Then he laughed, but stifled it quick when I didn’t laugh with him. “I didn’t come to tell you this to make you feel bad, Steve. I came to tell you that Mom and Dad don’t care what people are saying about you. And if the board gets lippy with them, they’re gonna fight back.”
“And if the board doesn’t care and wants to kick them out anyway?”
“They’re not gonna be homeless, Steve. It would be a temporary setback. That’s it. Your dad has been trying to call you all week. He says you’re not picking up. So that’s why I’m here.”
“I haven’t been picking up because I just… I dunno. I just want to be left alone, I guess.”
“I get it,” Mike said. “That’s why we’re trying to give you your space. Plus that crowd outside. It’s getting quite hard to navigate. Is it me, or is it getting bigger?”
I hadn’t looked in days. So I didn’t know. But when I peeked out the window it was indeed bigger. Much bigger. “Have they been harassing Essie?”
Mike winced.
“What?” I pushed. “Tell me.”
“Not directly harassing her, or me, but somehow they found out we owned all those trailers and they’ve been harassing the neighbors.”