Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Almost every night I had the same dream where I was married to a guy I didn’t want to be with. In the end, this dark haired man would turn around, and it was Josh. I’d feel this wave of relief wash over me. I was with the right person, and it was just a bad dream! I’d wake up feeling so much better from my nightmare, only to realize it was a different sort of torment that haunted my days.
Once I returned stateside, I thought he’d find me and… I keep re-reading the same line of my notes over and over again, not realizing my phone is ringing. Sadly, I guess my throw didn’t break it.
When it rings for the third time in a row, I slide off my bed to finally silence it. I’m prepared to hit the volume button, thinking it’s Luke, but when I look down, it’s lighting up Mr. Harrington.
“Hi!” I immediately answer, accidentally almost dropping it.
“Hey yourself,” his smooth voice instantly relaxes me. I think I just needed to hear it after our last horrible encounter.
“I’m sorry,” he wastes no time. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” I sigh. “Not really. You?”
“This has been one of my worst days ever.”
I don’t know why, but I laugh.
“That sound still drives me wild,” I hear the smile in his voice, and I don’t even try to stop it.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The line goes silent, except for his hard breathing.
“So I actually called with a purpose,” he swallows.
“Okay,” I hesitate, wanting to just forget about last night.
“I have this thing coming up.”
The conversation takes an unexpected turn, and he’s got my attention. “A thing?”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “A sort of gala.”
“Did you just say gala?” I laugh.
“It’s my sister’s engagement party at this country club down in Westchester. There’s going to be flowers - orchids actually - a big tent, and music. It’s really absurd-”
“I’ll go,” I interrupt. “I mean, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Yeah?” He sounds surprised. “You’ll have to dress up.”
“I like dressing up.”
“It’s this Saturday. Sort of like a Valentine’s Day weekend thing. It wouldn’t be a date or anything-”
“Are you asking me to go and now trying to convince me not to?”
“No,” he laughs. “I mean, yes, I’m asking you to go, but no, I’m not trying to convince you otherwise.”
I start to pace around the room. “So, are you going to wear a suit to this gala?”
“Yes,” he laughs.
“I like you in suits.”
“Are you flirting with me?” His voice holds a hint of surprise and amusement.
“No!”
“Ouch!” He exclaims, and I think I managed to insult him.
“You used to flirt with me all the time,” his voice becomes smooth and inviting. “In fact, you used to love to.”
“That was years ago, Mr. Harrington,” I can’t help my stupid smile as the line goes silent again.
“Not everything was bad back then,” he admits. “I was upset, and I don’t ever… I could never… I don’t regret anything with you.”
“I know,” I tell him, fully aware he said what he did out of anger.
“There was a lot of good,” he continues.
I don’t respond as I balance the phone between my ear and shoulder, raiding my mini fridge.
“Luci?” He asks, seeing if I’m still on the line. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “I can never say the right-”
“Yeah, sorry!” I stammer loudly. “I’m here!”
“What are you doing?” He laughs.
“Opening a bottle of wine, hold on.” I put the phone down as I grab the corkscrew and undo the top.
“Back!”
“Wine?” He’s amused.
“If we’re going to have this conversation, I need alcohol,” I sigh. “Lots and lots of alcohol.”
He laughs again, and I pour the clear liquid into a plastic cup. “So, what’ll it be?”
“Cheers,” he whispers, and I take a huge gulp.
“Your door is locked, right? You’re in your room, safe?”
“Yes,” I answer. “Geez.”
“Then tell me when you’re drunk enough so I can say some things I really want to say,” he sends a chill up my spine. “But a word of warning, dear Guinevere, what I have to say won’t be very friendly.”
“Not tonight then,” I croak. “I’m not planning on getting that drunk.”
“Ouch,” he laughs, and the line goes silent once more.
“I guess I did miss your laugh too,” I confess.
“I know the feeling,” he agrees, before pausing. “You know, I kept that stupid board game. It’s still in my office.”
“Ha! We never did finish our last game.”
“There’s a lot we haven’t finished.”
“That’s… bold,” I swallow another big sip, letting it burn as it goes down.
“It’s the truth,” he sighs. “Wow! You must be half in the bag for not jumping down my throat tonight. I’m trying all my best lines here, and you aren’t even threatening to hang up!”
I look at the bottle, and it’s already almost halfway gone. Shit, I need to dump the rest or I’ll never get to class in the morning.