Total pages in book: 205
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
“You survived initiation tonight, copper top.” He spreads his arms out and flashes her a sardonic smile. “Welcome to the suck.”
His attempt at humor fails. She doesn’t laugh.
“Your songs, they’re beautiful.” Slowly, she approaches him and sits beside him on the bed. “Will you play more?”
“Nope.”
“Fair enough.” She nods to herself. “It’s just…I’ve never heard anything that good.”
“What do you know about good music?” The sudden animosity in his voice makes her flinch. Without his happy-go-lucky mask, he’s giving her a peek at the real man.
“Well, I mean…” She clears her throat. “I’m not a musician, obviously. But I’ve had the pleasure of hearing some of the best jazz players alive today. I visit New Orleans often and developed an ear for talent. Jazz was born there and continues to thrive in the legendary—”
“I’m not an idiot. I know the history and culture.”
She pulls on her earlobe, nervously waiting for him to elaborate.
“You see enough movies, read enough books…” He shrugs. “Feels like I’ve been there.”
“I suppose, in some ways, reading about it can be better than living it. Imagination is often more pleasurable than the reality.”
“Unless the imagination is dark in nature.”
“How dark?”
“Black as death.”
“Mm.” She hasn’t blinked once, her voice monotone. “No pleasure in that.”
“The devil would disagree.”
They stare at each other, and I’m spellbound, watching them. If she weren’t here, Wolf would be in a state of dormancy, punishing me with his silent unresponsiveness for days. But he seems to have forgotten my very existence in lieu of Frankie’s undivided attention.
He craves it. Not just her attention but everything about her. The sound of her voice. The words from her mouth. All the things she experienced outside of Hoss.
I know what he craves because I crave it, too.
“Where else?” I cringe at the eagerness in my demand and tone it down. “Where have you been?”
“Oh. Uh…” She studies my expression as if surprised by my interest. “A lot of places, I guess. I visit the East Coast every year and travel with…” She glances at Leo and wrinkles her nose. “I travel with Monty to his offices in California.”
“I told you not to mention him.” Leo shoots her a look that would make most people shrivel.
But not her.
“I know what you told me.” She raises her chin. “You can separate me from those I love, but you can’t delete them from my thoughts.” She taps her chest. “In here, my husband will never stop existing.”
Leo curls his lip. “We’ll see.”
I don’t disagree with him. This place has a way of erasing all that came before it. Her husband doesn’t stand a chance.
“Leo’s just jelly.” Wolf trails a finger along the curve of her knee. “Have you ever been to Disney World?”
She grips his hand, halting the stroke of his touch but doesn’t push it away.
“Yeah.” Her smile reaches her eyes. “When I was younger.”
For the next hour, she regales us with stories about the world outside of Hoss. She talks about mundane cities she visited and exotic destinations she vacationed with her rich husband.
She doesn’t mention his wealth, but she doesn’t need to. Nurses make a comfortable living, but most aren’t jet-setting to the Riviera for a weekend of shopping or cruising the Rhine River before hitting the ski slopes in Switzerland.
Thanks to her husband, she’s well-traveled. I want to hate her for being a snooty, spoiled little bitch. But she’s not any of those things.
There’s a whimsical sort of lilt in her voice as she recalls places she’s been and people she’s met. She’s so deeply humble and grateful for the experiences. I see the heartfelt appreciation shining on her face. She’s also empathetic to those who don’t have the same privileges and opportunities.
“There are starving children in America.” Her brows knit as she stares at Wolf’s hand on her lap. “With all this resource-rich land and literally the largest economy in the world, the United States still has children begging on the streets in every city. Did you learn about that in your books? It’s disgusting.”
I go still, the vodka raised halfway to my mouth, and it hits me. No matter how hard I try, I could never hate this woman. There’s too much goodness in her. Too many selfless, desirable qualities.
I had no idea people like her existed.
With her voice reedy and cheeks flushed, she goes on about hungry kids and the shortage of affordable health care. She rants about poverty, neglect, abuse, racism, and even homeless dogs and cats.
My brothers and I lean into every word, lost in her perspective of the world. We read books and watch documentaries and know enough about the things she speaks of, but we’ve never seen it with our own eyes, never heard it straight from the mouth of an eyewitness. Conversations like this simply don’t happen in Hoss.