Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 41935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 210(@200wpm)___ 168(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 210(@200wpm)___ 168(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
I furrow my brow because the Kit Kat thing tracks, but it’s still fucking ridiculous.
“That’s not what I want.”
She looks confused for a second, but then realization dawns. “Oh, you don’t need to apologize over the other night, Dalton. I was upset about something else and I took it out on you.”
“It doesn’t matter. I was still out of line, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
I shake my head. “I’m used to letting shit fly out of my mouth because I do that with my teammates. And I meant what I said to you, but it wasn’t my business.”
I’m sweaty from yoga, so I walk into the water, letting it lap around my ankles as we walk. Alice is quiet for a couple of minutes before she responds.
“I know how it seems. Farrah’s...just Farrah, and some of the stuff I have to do for her is ridiculous.”
“I’m glad we agree on that.”
She looks over and up at me, her expression earnest. “But.”
“Damn. This is where we’re gonna part ways, isn’t it? Where you try to tell me why you shouldn’t get weekends off? Because other assistants can’t step in and take over for you?”
She sighs, her gaze locked onto the pier. “My dad owned his own electrician business in Detroit. My mom stayed at home with me and my brother until we were in high school, and then she got a job as a receptionist at a veterinarian’s office. My brother and I started college and everything was good until six years ago when my dad had a stroke.”
The sadness in her voice hits me right in the chest. “I’m so sorry, Alice.”
“He couldn’t work anymore. My mom had to quit her job to take care of him. My brother and I were nineteen.”
“You’re a twin?”
She smiles. “I am. My brother’s name is Will. And he’s so smart. So fucking smart and hardworking. He was going to school on a full scholarship, and I was a psychology major with no scholarships and not a ton of interest in psychology, just going because my parents were adamant that their kids finish school. So it was an easy decision. I quit school and made Will stay in.”
I stop walking. “You quit school?”
“I had to. My parents had no income. They would’ve lost their house. So I moved back home and started working two jobs.”
I’m so wrapped up in her story that even though I don’t want to interrupt her, I want to know everything.
“What were the jobs?”
“By day, I worked at a printing place, and by night, I was a server at a steak house.”
“Wow. Like how many hours a week are we talking?”
She considers. “Thirty-seven hours at the print shop because they had to pay benefits for full-time people, and usually thirty-five at the steak house.”
She starts walking again, and I follow, the breeze blowing the dark waves of her hair in all directions.
“I made sixty-seven thousand dollars a year between both jobs. It was such a fucking struggle to keep the house and have food on the table. We couldn’t pay the medical bills. My parents hated that I’d quit school to support them.”
I imagine nineteen-year-old Alice carrying all this weight on her shoulders and doing it willingly. Gladly. I was a playboy pro hockey player at nineteen, and I didn’t have to take care of anyone but myself.
“So my mom had a friend from college who worked for a Hollywood agent,” she continues. “She found out about an actress who needed a very reliable, trustworthy assistant, and she recommended me. It was a lot more money, but it was a very hard decision because it meant I couldn’t be with my parents anymore. I couldn’t help with my dad’s care. I had to make a hard decision. Either bust my ass to not cover all the bills but be there to help. Or move away for about twice as much money as I was making.”
I shake my head. “That had to be hard.”
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Her voice breaks with emotion and she turns away. “I went, obviously.”
I stop and move in front of her, putting my hands on her shoulders. “Hey.”
She takes a step back, looking over her shoulder. “Don’t. She thinks we’re talking about her.”
I look down the beach to where Farrah and JP had been. They’re gone.
“She’s not there.”
Alice looks at the house. “She still might be able to see us. We should keep walking.”
She swipes her fingertips over her cheeks. “So I was Farrah’s primary assistant, and I did get weekends off. Not that I knew anyone in LA or had anything to do. But she didn’t like the other assistants, so she offered me more money to be her around-the-clock person.”
I blow out a breath. “I’ve never felt like a bigger asshole than I do right now.”