Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73928 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73928 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Soon my son leads her away and she pierces me with a curious look over her shoulder. Those round, warm, greenish-hazel, innocent eyes narrow with intrigue.
I wait for them to enter the spare room before I follow. My apology is stuck in my throat, rehearsed and ready though I don’t mean it, not fully. I’m only saying it so Maddox doesn’t give me a hard time, which I know he will.
The door is still open, I can hear their voices drifting my way. Hers is hushed so I can’t make out what she’s saying but his isn’t.
“My dad is scarred,” he explains and I have to lean on the wall with my hand for support. “My mom did a number on us both. He never got over it. Never learned to trust again.”
“He never moved on?” Her voice is louder now and her meaning is clear. She thinks I’m some virginal little martyr, waiting for the right woman. Ha. The thought is laughable.
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t say that. He’s always with somebody, but never here. It’s always just been me and him, and his assistant, Marcy, who was originally male when my dad hired her, so she doesn’t count.”
“You’ve told me about Marcy, she sounds amazing.”
“She is, my dad would be lost without her.”
I would not.
“Just give him time and ignore him if he’s rude. He doesn’t mean it. He’s just scarred. Badly, badly, scarred.”
I am not scarred. I just can’t be dealing with the same fake bitch trashing my life day in, day out when I can have my pick, day in, day out. Who needs the rest of the baggage when you can choose between every pussy letter of the alphabet?
“You might have told me this about your dad before, though.”
I hear my son sigh and my chest tightens. “I thought he’d be better than that. His email seemed so sincere but, then, I should have known it wasn’t him who sent it.”
Fuck.
I back away quietly, deciding my apologies are better suited for the morning.
He’s also wrong, I’m not still holding onto the pain of what his mother did or any morbid shit like that. I’m simply enjoying life this way, without the influence of a woman.
I guess I shouldn’t blame my son for wanting a woman in his life. He’ll soon learn to stay away. There’s something about this girl, something in her eyes that I don’t like. She’s going to be hard work.
Tempest
I can’t believe this house. It’s insane.
Everything is glass, every room has floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking an incredible view of Malibu. We’re high up so nobody can see in without trespassing first. Everything is the same color, the floors are all a brownish, gray wood that’s glossy and gorgeous. The walls are an off white with cleverly placed art here and there. The furniture is minimal but so comfy looking and classy.
Mad only gave me a brief tour last night as we were both wiped but he told me to make myself at home. I’m not sure I can, not until I’ve spoken to his father and cleared the air. As much as I’d like to make myself scarce immediately I am stuck here until I can make alternative arrangements. He agreed to have me so he will have to deal with it. I was just calling his bluff in the hall yesterday when we arrived, knowing on the spot he wouldn’t have told me to fuck off because Mad would have followed.
It's such a shame that such a handsome man is such an arse.
I stretch on the rug in my bedroom after a second, long, hot shower. It’s been so long since I felt the softness of a shaggy rug. Especially one so expensive and authentic.
My wet hair dampens it as I stare at the ceiling in a pair of Mad’s gray boxer briefs and a white vest that’s a bit too large. All of my things need cleaning. Not that I have many things. This is why I had a shower before bed and one upon waking, I was filthy. Now I feel clean, so squeaky clean. It’s amazing. I never want to feel dirty again.
I unravel the leather strap from around my journal and roll onto my front. The sun is only now rising outside but my mind’s jet lag had it rising two hours ago and in Cambodia we always got up before it broke through the darkness anyway. We had to, to gather water from a mile away and have it filtered and ready to drink.
I write:
“Today is going to be a good day, I can feel it. Today is a day of harmony and happiness and today I’ll try to bond with Sargent. I still can’t believe Mad told Marcy to purposely withhold the fact I’m female, just so I could come here with him. I knew he valued my friendship and company but to the extent that he’d risk the wrath of his father just to keep me around is mind blowing.”