Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“What are you majoring in?” That seemed a safe enough question. If Lana asked her, she could talk about how her brain was always so conflicted.
“Fashion design. I particularly enjoy designing unique articles of clothing for young teens, ones that are misfits in school and don’t have much. My goal would be to sell high-end to those who can afford it and make clothes to give to teens at a nominal fee or be able to waive the money altogether.”
Azelie was impressed. “That’s amazing. Really amazing. I swear, if you ever get your business off the ground and need backers, I’ll find a way to help you, even if I have to take out a personal loan. That’s a very worthwhile ambition. I’m good with numbers; I could do your books for free or something just to help you out.”
She meant it too. Every single word. She wrote down her name and cell phone number. “Stay in touch with me and hopefully you achieve exactly what you envision.”
Lana accepted the Post-it Note and put it in her backpack. “Thank you. I intend to make my business a success. It’s nice to hear that someone else thinks it’s a good idea.”
“It’s a great idea,” Azelie enthused.
“What are you majoring in?” Lana asked.
“Not something that will help others the way you plan to do—certainly not that concrete of an idea. I love to tell stories. I want to get better at that craft, but I do have a weird brain. I see in patterns, in numbers, so logic is always at war with my creativity.”
“Words can be very powerful. Stories touch people and seem to find the ones who need to hear them. I love to read. It’s one thing I’m passionate about,” Lana said. “I like happy endings, even if the stories involve murder and mayhem. I never want the hero or heroine to cheat, and I have to have a romance in the story. Seriously, the authors I read bring all kinds of real-life issues to their stories. They’ve helped me, and I can’t imagine that they aren’t helping others.”
“I prefer writing romance for those very reasons,” Azelie said. “I detest stories where the man’s wife is a nag and unattractive to him, and his mistress is awesome. I want to show that men and women can live together and love each other while going through years of ups and downs. That a wife can be sexy and loving, and the man can think she’s attractive even when she’s nine months pregnant or just had the baby and is exhausted every minute of the day.”
Lana gave her a high-wattage smile. “See, you do have lofty goals. I’ll be purchasing your books one day.”
The bus lumbered to a stop, the doors opening. Azelie glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to run, but hopefully I’ll see you again soon. Thanks again for your help today.”
Sprinting across the parklike campus, she contemplated what the merry widows had told her about living life. About standing back up after getting knocked down. They certainly had stood back up again and made the most of their lives, even to the point of making tragedy in the form of cheating husbands humorous.
She made a vow to herself she would take more chances. That meant she would give herself into the relationship with Andrii without reservation. She was an all-or-nothing person, and if she committed to him—to them—she would go all in. That meant trusting him. The idea was frightening and yet exhilarating.
There was something about Andrii besides his blatant sex appeal that called to her. She caught glimpses of a man who had seen too much, been through too much. He knew firsthand what real trauma was. There was wariness in his eyes at times when he looked at her.
She had no doubt that he desired her and he’d made up his mind to have her, but a part of him was worried that she might shatter his heart. He was doing his best to go slow and guard his heart. Although, she found herself a little amused and hugging the knowledge to herself that his going slow was like a bowling ball being hurtled down the alley straight at her. Their ideas of slow were two different things.
Her classes seemed to fly by. Probably because she was testing, and she found the material interesting. At her lunch break, she made her way outside. Even when it was cold or foggy, she preferred to get out of the building and be outside. Today was a glorious day in San Francisco. The weather was perfect. The sun was out and there was a small breeze rather than a roaring wind.
As she approached the small grove of trees she had found that gave her some privacy, she was shocked to see Andrii sitting on the bench surrounded by what appeared to be take-out bags. The wonderful aroma of Thai food made her stomach growl. She halted a few feet from him, but he stood, towering above her, coming straight to her.