Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
After an hour of allowing my self-pity to take over, I get off my lazy ass and clean the apartment. My shitty cell phone rings, and I know it’s my mom. She’s probably wondering if I’ve gotten into any trouble. She’s been worried about Cara for a long time after learning where she works. I don’t answer it, but I respond to her text asking if I’m okay. I’m at work. Not the club. I can’t be on my phone. Love you and Dad.
Sadly, as I’m going through the bathroom, I see that my mom and I are right to be worried about my cousin. On the edge of the sink is an empty pill bottle without a proper label, and the name on it isn’t hers.
I toss it in the trash and clean up everything. By nine, the entire apartment is spotless. I make a nice dinner after running to the grocery store. A chicken breast with broccoli and carrots does the trick to fill me up. Cleaning up my mess, I save the leftovers just in case she’s hungry when she gets home. I hope she’s okay. Dropping back on the sofa, I open my Kindle app on my phone and start reading a new book. It’s the only luxury I have right now.
I wake up to my alarm and grumble my way to the bathroom. The door is slightly open, and I push it to see a man in the shower just as he turns on the spray. He opens the curtain, and I get a glimpse of Cara’s boyfriend and he’s smirking. Son of a bitch. “Sorry,” I squeak out, slamming my hand over my eyes before rushing out. I’m grateful that I showered last night, so I slip on my work pants and then sneak to a corner of the kitchen to put on my bra and top. Luckily, I hear the shower still running when I finish. I can’t believe I just walked in on him. It’s almost as if he enjoyed giving me a show.
I grab my things and make it out of the apartment just as the bathroom door opens. I’ll pee at the diner. I’m so embarrassed that I barely notice how icy it is. By this afternoon it should be extremely mild, but the sun isn’t out yet so it’s fucking chilly. There’s frost on my car, so I sit in it while it takes its happy time thawing. Knowing my mom is up, I shoot her a “Good morning” text because I need to get over my flustered behavior before I show up at the diner. I don’t want to give Logan the impression that I’m flaky.
She doesn’t bother to text; instead, she calls. I answer it without hesitation because I need to hear a familiar voice right now. “Good morning, sweetheart. How are you doing?”
“Good. I’m about to head to the diner to start work. I just wanted to say hello.”
“You work at a diner?” I can sense her concern, but she does her best to disguise it.
“Yes. It’s only temporary. I have no idea what I’m going to do yet.”
“Well, you’re young, and you don’t have any student loans. Is it like the Gilmore Girls and there’s a hot guy who owns the place?”
“It’s nothing like that. Okay—it’s a little like that, and yes, he’s drop-dead gorgeous, but he’s not interested in me.”
“Already married. Pity,” she sighs. I don’t correct her because I don’t want to give her any more ammo. She’ll be digging into his life, calling the diner and asking questions as if she’s still a reporter. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Sorry, Mom. I’m not getting knocked up yet,” I say. “So how are things at home?”
“Good. You know we’d love for you to come back and find a nice guy. Bring your cousin. I’m sure there are plenty of men here that would make great husbands for the both of you.”
“Hold your horses. I’ve only been here two days. Give it time. I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tonight. Give Dad my love.”
“Love you too.” I end the call before she can bring up finding a man again. All of their friends are having grandkids, so it’s like grandbaby fever central.
Finally, my windshield has cleared up and I make my way to the diner, which only takes five minutes at this hour. The parking lot is nearly empty except for two cars and a badass motorcycle. Something tells me that’s Logan’s ride. I pull down the visor and start applying some makeup on my face. Hopefully I don’t look like I just rolled out of bed. Shit, I didn’t get to brush my hair. I’m grateful I braided it before bed. It’s much easier to manage. So, I pull it out and run my fingers through it and then re-braid it, taking another glance at my appearance and sighing. It will have to do.