Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
“It was weird seeing him again,” I admit. “A first, I wanted to run away, like just the sight of him spooked me. He looks good, and that pissed me off. He should have gone bald and got fat!”
My mom chuckles. “He’s not gonna lose that hair. His dad still has hair. His uncle Carmine had beautiful hair, thick and dark—” she stops.
“Mom!”
“What? I had a life before I met your father,” she reminds me.
“I know, but still. Ew.”
“Listen, all I’m saying is that with those genes, Benny’s gonna look good ‘til the day he dies.”
“Yeah, well in his line of work, that could be tomorrow,” I say.”
“Benny’s trying to change things. Move forward. He’s not the same boy he was when you left is all I’m saying.”
“I’m not saying nothing changed, but I didn’t hide out for six years just to take one look at Benny Falconari and decide to hand over my son. Despite the moves he’s trying to make, that lifestyle is dangerous, and him being higher up on the food chain doesn’t put him in less peril,” I say.
She nods her head. “I get it. And you’re right. Just don’t close yourself off to every man because you had a bad experience with one.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I tell her.
“I’ve got some work to do,” she says, and I bring her the laptop and her headset.
I decide to go for a walk to clear my head.
10
BENNY
My assistant buzzes Daisy in. There she is, after all this time, standing in my doorway. She’s holding flowers and candy, and I want to laugh because it’s such a damn delight to see her here.
I nod to Malcolm and Joshua because that meeting is over. I get up to greet her and she dumps the caramels and the vase of flowers on a table.
“Why did you send my mom all this crap?” she asks. I remind myself to look serious.
“Did you read the card? It says ‘get well.’”
“I read the card. Did you do it to get my attention?’
“I always liked your mom. She didn’t always like me, but I can’t blame her. I was a bad influence,” I say,
“Don’t send anything else,” she says, but she doesn’t sound mad. My gaze sweeps her from flipflops to her hands on her hips, her messy bun.
“I got a minute. You want to tell me what’s going on?”
“I returned the flowers and candy. That’s what’s going on.”
“If you didn’t want it, you could’ve thrown it out. No need to come see me,” I point out. My heart kicks up when she takes the bait.
“If I don’t tell you in person, you’ll keep sending stuff,” she says. “This way you know what I want.”
“That’s what you want, for me to quit sending get well stuff to your mom?” I quip. I sit on the leather couch near where Daisy stands and I wait. She finally sits down on the arm of the couch near me and looks me in the eye.
“I heard your dad isn’t doing too good,” she says. It throws me off balance. That’s why she came here—not to use the gifts as an excuse to see me but to check up on me. To ask about something real.
I don’t know what to say. God, I want to tell her everything. She’s perched on the arm of the couch right by me. Her leg brushes mine. I try and fail to swallow.
“He hasn’t been himself for a couple years now. It started with him saying inappropriate things, then it got worse. He forgets what we just talked about the day before. My role went from managing the shipping division to managing him. He’s not taking that very well,” I stop, not sure why I told her all that.
“That sounds rough,” she says. “I’m sorry you’re both going through that.”
“Thank you. You didn’t need to use the flowers as an excuse to come see me, you know.”
She looks unsure for a brief moment. “I left you. I can’t just walk back in here like nothing happened.”
“We would never pretend that nothing happened,” I say.
“Benny,” she says and makes a move to stand.
I slide my arm around her waist and pull her toward me. She doesn’t resist and lets me settle her in my lap. She strokes my hair from my forehead, my cheek pressed to her chest, her heartbeat thundering beneath my ear. I breathe her in and hold her. She sits back, and I lift my head to look at her. She strokes my face, my jaw and cheek, the back of my neck and down to my throat. My pulse leaps beneath her touch. My eyes lock with hers.
What does this mean? I can tell she’s still attracted to me, like I knew the first day I saw her back in town. But she came all the way over to my office to check on me when she heard my dad was sick. She’s not just walking down memory lane here. She cares enough to check up on me.