Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
“We were just about to head out for some Charley’s.”
“I need those loaded fries in my life,” Mel added with convincing enthusiasm.
“Oh, that does sound good.”
Mom reached up and began to remove the pins holding her long dark hair in an immaculate chignon. “Can you bring me something back? Papá has a late-night, so I was going to order in for us, anyways.”
“You could always come with,” I suggested, already knowing she wouldn’t.
“I still have some things to take care of. Rain check, okay? You girls go head and enjoy yourselves. I’ll be working until he’s home.”
“Okay, just text what you want.”
She thanked me and left us alone, the sound of her eight-inch heels fading as she headed towards the staircase.
She’d work out, take a shower, and then lock herself away in her office. Same routine as always when her schedule had nothing else on it.
“So, Charley’s?” Grace prompted.
“Good food and a chance to get out of the house. That’s a win-win.” I hit pause on our movie and tossed my throw aside.
Nibbling on a fry, I stared at the phone in my hand.
It was a brand I had never seen before, close to prehistoric. You had to tap a button multiple times for each letter. I wondered where Ciaran got it from. Even my Abuelo had an Apple.
“It’s been twenty minutes,” Mel pointed out, sipping her strawberry shake.
“Maybe he’s busy.”
Grace leaned between the cream-colored seats with a knowing smile. “Do you want me to call?”
“No,” I grumbled, going to the only contact saved in the phone.
I hit the green button and managed to find the speaker phone just as it connected.
“I was wondering how long it would take for you to call,” Ciaran stated as soon as he answered, placing heavy emphasis on the word call.
“I’ll give you ten minutes to explain what it is you want me to know.”
“Five,” Mel corrected.
Someone laughed in the background on Ciaran’s end.
“I won’t need that.”
“I’m waiting.”
“There’s somewhere I need you to go first.”
I glanced at Grace and Mel to make sure they’d heard the same thing I just did. “Go? I don’t think I need to tell you this, but our parents keep us under a microscope.”
“They aren’t the only ones.”
“Huh?”
“Do you know of a place where tragedy and drama meet every night?”
My brows furrowed as I considered the question. There was only one place that immediately came to mind. “I think so…”
“On Friday you’re going to be there by six.”
“Are you being serious?”
“Six on the dot. Don’t be late and get rid of the phone.”
That wouldn’t be a problem. He had me ready to launch it out the window.
I kept my composure and maintained level-headedness. “Why can’t you just talk to me now?”
“It’s better this way. Trust me.”
“I don’t.”
“If you want something from me, you should start. Your sister did."
There he went bringing up Lamia again. His casual way of talking about her, as if they were well acquainted, planted an unpleasant seed in my mind.
“Place this phone in the rest of your lemonade and pitch it before going home.”
My eyes immediately dropped to the cup holder where my half-empty drink sat. “How did you know I had a lemonade?”
The call ended without him answering me. I stared at the screen until it went black and then looked at Grace and Mel.
How did he know where we were?
CHAPTER SEVEN
On a prominent stretch of city real estate, you could find the Eden Theater. It was a restored movie and showtime venue with an attached hotel that screamed of money the moment you stepped into the lobby.
After little deliberation, it was decided by the three of us that this was the only place that fit Ciaran’s purposely vague description. It also happened to be one of the few spots we chose to frequent when needing a reason to get away for a night.
Something told me he was aware of this too but that didn’t bother me for the reasons one might think. I whipped my Range Rover into the parking lot with five minutes left till six.
Having no idea what kind of car Ciaran would be in, I reversed into an empty space between a large black pickup and a small sedan.
“Any sign of him?”
“Not yet,” Grace replied, stretching up off the backseat to see over the cars on either side of us.
Mel and I surveyed what we could of the parking lot. The place wasn’t exactly empty, and the sun had begun to set. Without the burner phone, there wasn’t a way to contact him. I didn’t like that, but I understood why I needed to get rid of it.
“You bought our tickets already, right?” I double-checked with Mel.
“Three for Notre Dame De Paris. Grace’s favorite. They’ve already been hole-punched and are safely in the glovebox.”
“Okay, good.” I checked the time and then surveyed the parking lot again.