Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Orin grunts, glancing at his son, but fucking hell am I grateful for Finley Crowley right about now. If he hadn’t spoken up to lend Appalachian Peaks some legitimacy, I’m not sure what would’ve happened.
“Long distance,” Orin says, shaking his head as he returns to his desk. “That won’t be easy.”
“We’ll make it works. We’re committed.”
“Good,” he says, slumping back into his chair. He tosses the drink down. “There are too many fucking changes happening right now. Too many fucking unknowns. You’ll be busy once you get going for real.”
“Anything I should be aware of?”
“Not yet,” he says, glancing at his son, jaw working. “Just a fucking mess. Bunch of scum fuckers making my life miserable.” He jabs a finger at me. “Life isn’t easy, boy. Don’t you fucking forget it.”
“Never imagined it would be.”
“Good.” He shoves his empty glass aside. “Finn? Show Mr. Kane around. I have work to do.”
“Right this way, Mr. Kane.” Finn escorts me out. He takes the glass and leaves it on Clodagh’s desk with a wink, which only elicits a feral growl.
“Is your father always like that?” I ask as we retrace our steps.
“Pretty much. You caught him on a good day.”
I laugh, bewildered. “He was so… different down the beach.”
“Beach Dad and real Dad are two different people. He lets go down there. Mom basically forces him to, if I’m honest. But as soon as he’s back in the city…” He trails off, shrugging. “Anyway, where do you want to go?”
I tell him it doesn’t matter. He talks about the city, about the family, about their legal work. I half listen, thinking about Orin in that office.
Looking stressed, looking ten times older than he did at the beach.
He probably spends most of his life here in this place, shouting over the phone, stressing about every little thing. Meanwhile, the man I met down the shore, that was a happy man living the sort of life I’d want for myself.
That wasn’t reality. This Orin, this haggard, angry shell of a human, this is what the family demands of him.
That’s what he gives to them. Everything, every ounce of him, until he’s dried up.
I’m shocked I didn’t realize this sooner.
The life I glimpsed at the beach wasn’t real. The life I saw back in that office—that’s what I have waiting for me.
Not tomorrow. Not in a week, or a year, but one day I’ll wake up, find myself sitting at an enormous desk, wrapped in layers of power and responsibility, entirely alone. Angry at the world. Stressed to my core.
That’s my future if I keep going down this path.
But what else is there? I struggled to get this far. The idea of turning around repulses me.
Only I don’t know how much I have to give, and how much will be taken anyway.
Chapter 41
Fiona
I’m lonely without Gareth.
It’s pathetic. I know it’s pathetic. I drift around the apartment, killing time until I start work. He left me a credit card, said I could get myself an entire professional wardrobe, so obviously I take him up on it.
Shopping only numbs my feelings for a little while.
Then I’m back home with half a dozen bags filled to the brim with designer outfits, empty all over again. I pop a bottle of champagne, pour a glass, and start at the window.
Somewhere, hundreds of miles away, Gareth’s visiting the city we were both supposed to move to. I hope he’s having a good time with the Crowley boys. I hope he’s keeping out of trouble.
A stab of jealousy pierces through me, and I have to shove it away.
This isn’t me. Moping around, feeling sorry for myself. Well, okay, it’s a little me, but still, I don’t let myself get all soppy and sad over some guy.
Gareth made his choice. I made mine.
So why am I still feeling this way?
As I pour myself a second glass, the doorbell rings. I go still, surprised. It’s a little past six and we never get deliveries this time of night. Who else would show up without calling?
I walk over to the intercom. It takes a second to figure out how it works. “Uh, hello?”
“Hi, Fiona? Okay, I know this is extremely random, but we heard Gareth was out for the weekend and you might need something to do. Crap, uh, this is Brice. You know, Carmine’s wife? We met at the Oak? Kat’s here too.”
“Hi, Fiona, this wasn’t my idea,” Kat says quickly. “It’s okay if you’re busy!”
“Shush,” Brice whispers. “So, want some dinner? We brought Mexican! The good stuff.”
I blink rapidly, totally taken off-guard. But this is such a sweet gesture, and I have been feeling extremely alone. “Come on up,” I say, buzzing them in.
Brice and Kat appear in a flurry of bags. They make themselves at home, heating everything up, chatting about their husbands, treating me like we’ve known each other for years. After a little while, I even start to forget how miserable I am, and let myself enjoy their company.